Contained
by Swiftwidget
Summary: Part 5 of the "I Am..." series. Spoilers up to end of S3. "This is it," Naomasa confirmed, "With this, you can join the investigation in an official capacity." Toshinori ran his thumb across the face of the card. He bowed his head, breathing a shaky sigh of relief as a knot of tension unraveled in his chest, "Thank you." Naomasa pat Toshinori's shoulder. "Welcome back, All Might."
1. Coming Together

I do not own BNHA or its characters.

Enjoy Chapter 1 of "Contained"

Co-written with Aoimikans

* * *

 **Coming Together**

The lukewarm water rippled gently as Souma Ogawa twisted his arm beneath the surface. Distorted waves of light glinted off the black-tipped, bronze scales that covered his skin, some flecked with green. The scales covering the top of his arms were firm, each about the size of his pinkie fingernail.

Flipping his arm sent a wave of ripples across the small tub and flecks of bronze light dancing along its sides. The scales on the underside of his arm were much smaller, smoother, and closer to Souma's original skin tone and texture.

A pulling, stretching ache flared in Souma's elbows, and he winced. Jutting out from both elbows were short, curved spikes - bronze and tipped in black like the scales.

They weren't the only things growing…

Souma grunted with a wince and braced his feet against the end of the tub as a shudder ripped down his back. His pelvis shifted, bones grinding. Pressure built up and his tailbone felt _pulled_ painfully outward.

 _Please stop please stop please -_

Something _popped_ abruptly in his pelvis.

"A-Ah!" Souma yelped, clutching the edge of the tub. He glared at the ceiling light and grit his teeth, riding out the branching hot and cold sensations.

A flash of movement caught his attention. Wearily pulling himself higher against the slanted end of the tub, he winced and settled on his side, facing Mirai.

Mirai lowered her waving hand and asked, _"How are you holding up?"_

Souma sighed heavily, steam rushing from his nose. A hot flash rushed outward from his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes. Tiny bubbles formed on the edges of the scales and floated to the surface of the heating water.

 _"Don't know. I'm … really tired,"_ Souma shrugged. He glanced at Mirai's horns, curling back over her head in a completed arch, _"What about you?"_

Mirai leaned back against the far glass wall and brushed her fingers against the base of the horns where they sprouted from her forehead, _"They stopped aching."_

Souma nodded and coughed, another puff of steam escaping him. The water bubbled steadily around him, speeding closer and closer to a boil.

 _Hot…_

He rolled with a grimace, reaching down into the ice bucket beside the tub. He scooped handfuls of crushed ice, shoveling it into the hot water and onto his stomach until the bubbling slowed.

 _Okay... There._

Panting, Souma sank against the side of the tub. Fatigue hummed under his skin, and his attention shifted to the other glass cells.

In the cell directly to his right, Nozomi Shishiki had wrapped herself in her hospital blanket. Arms outstretched, she flexed her thin, trembling fingers as blotches of vibrant oranges and whites bloomed across her skin.

Souma remembered through a haze of fatigue and heat that the Doctor saw to her after giving him a _checkup._

The librarian said she was Quirkless…

 _'Was'_ seemed to be the key word _._

The colors switched to bands of yellow and black, then orange and white and back again.

Lips pursed in a tight, anxious frown, Nozomi carefully tucked her arms under the blanket.

In the next cell was their newest 'neighbor.' Mirai told him the Sphinx Quirk woman's name was Taeka Yoyogi. She'd been _allowed_ to keep her street clothes. After she'd clawed the noumu chaining her back leg to the floor, the Doctor called the creature away and hadn't looked too keen to send it back in for her clothes.

Taeka sat back on her haunches, left leg outstretched. She held the chains out in her front paws, running her functional dewclaw of a thumb over the links and shackle. She tucked a long lock of black hair behind her golden-tufted ear, her lips moving.

Souma heaved himself up, frowning at the water sloshing and spilling over the side of the tub.

He caught Mirai's attention, _"Can you hear her?"_

Mirai shook her head and shuffled forward, bending close to the slits in the bottom of the glass wall, "Taeka. What are you doing?"

Souma turned back over and watched as Taeka dropped the chain with a visible huff. She shrugged.

"I thought," Taeka murmured, lips difficult but not impossible to read, "That there might be something - some flaw. I can't _be here_." Her eyes burned furiously as she rested a paw on her powder blue hoodie, above her abdomen, "I need to get out."

 _"People are looking for us,"_ Souma signed, knowing Mirai was translating for him when Taeka's ears perked. _"We all had someone expecting us. People are looking for -"_

The metal door flashed in the light as it opened, and Souma slipped his hands into the water. His lungs and scales flared hot.

The Doctor shuffled inside the room, carrying a cardboard box under one arm and a coffee in hand.

 _Morning. It's morning._ Souma remembered. He checked Nozomi's watch every half-hour. _Approximately 5:10AM. Same as two days ago._

The Doctor set the box on the metal table lining the far wall, opened it, and began putting away prepackaged meals.

He had a system. Mini-fridge, bottom shelf: Apples, pre-packed sandwiches, fruit cups. Middle shelf: Pints of milk, bottled water, orange juice. Top shelf: Souma's hormones, a rack of the dark red vials - the ones that changed them. Green plastic rack, right side: Bags of pretzels. Left side: Peanut butter cracker snacks, trail mix.

All rewards for calm behavior. Good behavior.

 _The carrot to the hulking grey-skinned noumu of a stick._

And all meticulously organized.

Souma suppressed a twitch of a smile as the Doctor neatly adjusted one of the snack bags.

The Doctor liked control, liked organization. He had a schedule and stuck to it for as long as Souma had been paying attention. And because he stuck to a schedule -

The Doctor turned, his half-hidden gaze flicking between the four of them. He settled on Mirai, "Shimeno, you first."

He approached her cell and opened the door. The noumu with the cloth-covered face lumbered in from the hallway, swaying as it slowed to a stop just behind the Doctor.

Kneeling inside the cell, the Doctor unlocked the small padlock fastening the chain to the leather cuff. He stepped back, glancing at the noumu and ordered, "Escort her to the restroom and return her here."

The noumu lurched forward, and its massive hand closed around Mirai's arm.

Mirai grit her teeth, tensing and digging in her heels. Her bare feet slid and stumbled across the tile floor as the noumu tugged her roughly to its side. She jerked, head lowering, and rammed her horns into the noumu's broad chest.

The Doctor frowned, back turning to Souma -

 _That's it. Keep his attention just a little longer,_ Souma sunk lower in the tub. He pulled Nozomi's small watch from his binder, just enough to peek at the time, and shoved it back in.

 _5:24AM._ Souma swallowed roughly and let out a slow, steaming breath.

The bathroom breaks were spaced throughout the day. Every four or so hours.

 _Narrow it down. He has a schedule._ Souma breathed deep, feeling the watch tick against his heart, and the bubbling water calmed.

The Doctor shooed the noumu and Mirai from the room and turned his piercing gaze to Souma.

Souma breathed out, sending small ripples across the cooling water, _Find an opening._

* * *

Izuku Midoriya's smile faded, ears ringing. Suds dripped from his empty hands as All Might's pleasant rumble slipped from his mind.

Izuku's whole world narrowed to the screen.

"If you see this man," the anchor announced with practiced severity, "Keep your distance and immediately call police and alert your local pro-hero agency."

Superimposed beside the anchor in Channel 3 orange and blue frames were two photographs of the same man. The breaking news banner below scrolled in bold white text, **Serial Abductor Suspect Photo and Sketch Released.**

Izuku read the banner, glanced back up at the pictures, and read it again.

"Wh-" he stared at the older picture above the sketch, "What?"

His eyes widened.

 _Izuku's pediatrician leaned back in his chair, fingers laced as he shrugged,_ _"It's best you give up."_

 _"- two joints." "Quirkless."_

"Midoriya? What is it?" All Might asked and looked into the living room. His brows furrowed in recognition, a quiet fury burning in his eyes.

The doctor in the picture…

Izuku stared, shaken.

 _No. I'm overthinking._

 _Can't be._

 _There's no way._

He swallowed roughly, nausea sticking thickly to the back of his tongue. Horror fluttered and twisted heavily in his gut, _Think it through. Be certain._

His voice still wavered, " _That's_ … the man from the clinic?"

 _No. This has to be a mistake. He -_

The hackles on the back of All Might's neck rose, and he looked back down at Izuku.

"Yes." His intense gaze scoured Izuku's face, and Izuku jolted when All Might reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder, "My boy, what's wrong?"

"I know him!" Izuku blurted. He shook his head, stunned - dizzy. His brows furrowed in confusion, "I knew him..."

How many doctor's appointments had there been?

How long was he working for All for One?

How many check ups?

He hurt All Might?

How many visits? At least once a year, maybe twice. Required vaccinations for school. Flu shots. Sore throats and bad colds. All the kids in the neighborhood -

"How?" All Might asked urgently, briefly tugging Izuku from his racing thoughts, "Midoriya, who is he?"

When was his last appointment?

He was nine or ten years old, wasn't he?

There was a reason they stopped going. What was it?

Izuku could still remember the muted floral pattern of the wallpaper in the waiting room. The dry mixed smells of sterilizer, old building must, coloring books, and crayons.

"When I was little," he swallowed, jaw working as he shook his head, "My Mom used to take me to the family clinic down the road. He was there."

All the kids in the neighborhood went to the local clinic, didn't they? It was close to the elementary school - only a couple blocks away. It was convenient, he'd heard the adults say.

 _He_ was the man in Espa Clinic?

 _All for One's -_

Izuku looked back up at All Might, mouth too dry, "Dr. Tsubasa. He was _my doctor._ "

There was a clatter, and Izuku flinched, gaze snapping to the dining area.

Bakugou stood beside his table, shoulders high and stiff. His chair lay on the floor, knocked over when he'd shot up.

"Bakugou?" Kirishima asked, glancing perplexed between him and the television, "What's up?"

In the living room, Aizawa-sensei tossed his already folded sleeping bag onto the couch and strode through the dining area. Calm but brisk, he passed Bakugou with a quiet word and a nod. Bakugou watched him pass, then shoved his hands into his pockets. He followed the teacher into the kitchen, stopping a fair distance from Izuku.

"You two recognize that man," Aizawa said quietly, arms crossed. Not a question.

"Doctor Tsuba-" "Old man Tsu-"

Izuku and Bakugou glanced at each other.

"Tsubasa," Bakugou finished, voice low.

Izuku nodded in agreement.

All Might and Aizawa shared a serious look.

"I'll give Detective Tsukauchi a call," All Might said and fished his phone from his suit jacket pocket, "This information might be the break the investigation needs."

Aizawa nodded, "I'll contact their parents and ask them to meet us at the precinct."

"Us?" All Might asked, quirking a brow.

Aizawa gave All Might a flat look, "Given your recent history? It shouldn't need saying that you are not leaving this campus without a pro-hero escort."

All Might's ears flicked, taken aback at the light scolding. A surprised bark of a laugh escaped him, and he hastily cleared his throat with a nod, "Ah, well. Yes, that's for the best. Thank you, Aizawa."

Aizawa grunted, satisfied, and returned his sharp gaze to Izuku and Bakugou.

"We're taking this to the police immediately," he stated, "Midoriya. You said 'doctor.' Was he your pediatrician?"

"Yes," Izuku answered.

 _The same doctor. The same -_

"You too?" Aizawa asked Bakugou.

"Sort of…" Bakugou answered gruffly, glancing into the dining area and bristling at the few curious looks cast their way.

Aizawa's brow rose curiously, but he pulled out his own phone and continued, "And both your parents knew him?"

Izuku nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. His mom would know. She'd remember…

"Stay here." Stepping away, Aizawa lifted the phone to his ear and ducked his head in a bow, "Mrs. Midoriya, hello."

Izuku took a deep, trembling breath and let it out slow, hands steadying as he pinched his lip in thought.

 _Dr. Tsubasa and All for One's doctor…_

All Might clicked his tongue at the other end of the kitchen, frowning at his phone as he dialed again.

Izuku watched as All Might paced slowly, hackles standing on end and free ear twitching at chatter coming from the dining and living room. His tail lashed, agitated, as he lowered the phone from his ear and pulled something from his pocket. His sleeve caught, flashing the faded white scars on his wrist.

 _The doctor from the clinic where All Might -_

"That shitty old man..."

Izuku's brows shot up, and he stared at Bakugou, "Uh - Kacchan?"

Bakugou bristled and glared at Izuku, but it lacked any real fire. He turned and crossed his arms, watching All Might with a frown.

Izuku sighed at Bakugou's closed off posture but let it go, running his hand over the back of his head.

There … was a lot of history there. Dr. Tsubasa, the old clinic, and the old neighborhood with the woods behind the playground. And the log bridge stream.

All Might pocketed his cell phone and a business card just as Aizawa finished his second call.

"I couldn't get a hold of Tsukauchi," All Might said, "But I was able to contact Wright with the international team. They will be expecting us."

Aizawa tapped his phone, flicking through it, "Midoriya and Bakugou's mothers agreed to meet us at the precinct. Mic will cover homeroom until I get back."

All Might nodded. He pat Izuku's shoulder and gave him a small squeeze, "Let's go."

* * *

Nedzu was immediately notified and, once the rest of Class 1-A was given a bare-bones explanation and a poorly concealed threat to behave in his absence, Aizawa signed out a U.A. car. Toshinori followed Aizawa down the path to the faculty gate as young Izuku and Bakugou kept pace behind them.

The campus sidewalks were mercifully clear, save a few diligent students rushing to class early. They kept their faces tucked in scarves and bowed against the chill wind and took no notice of Toshinori as they passed. Maybe his sunglasses helped.

"Any word from Detective Tsukauchi?" Aizawa asked as he stepped onto the parking lot.

"Nothing yet," Toshinori replied and slipped his phone into his suit pocket again. He considered the cold, overcast sky. Dark clouds roiled on the horizon. It smelled like incoming rain and ozone. His joints ached faintly.

They quickly brushed by the staff owned cars and reached the small, school owned fleet.

Toshinori stiffened. His hackles rose, and his gait slowed.

 _Oh …_

 _Shit._

He grit his teeth and forced himself to keep walking. Capped claws tightly gripped his phone as he passed another all too familiar car, eyeing each warily.

Glossy black, uniform, and emblazoned with the U.A. crest on the front. Of course, they were the same car. Of course they were. It was part of the recognizable U.A. branding. Of course the Tantive Company drivers used the same vehicles.

Toshinori's hackles pricked down his spine and grew rigid. He squinted against the reflection of the windshield as if that would help him see into the driver's seat.

 _Stop it,_ Toshinori scolded himself, pointedly looking ahead. It wasn't the same car. It wasn't the car that drove up to Naomasa's place that rainy night, all those weeks ago. They might all be the same make and model - the same interior -

A cold raindrop landed on the top of Toshinori's head.

 _Rain streaked across the windows. Toshinori's hair dripped, rain-soaked and cold._

 _All for One smiled in the rear view mirror, face half-lit by the streetlight, "I suppose impersonations can't fool the former Symbol of Peace."_

"All Might," Aizawa's quiet call abruptly tugged Toshinori out of the memory. Aizawa watched him for a moment, then unlocked the closest car and asked, "Front or back?"

Toshinori sucked in a breath and forced a grin, "Ah, I'll take the back." He raised and flicked his tail, "Not enough room in front seats for me these days, I'm afraid."

Aizawa leveled him with a measured look before nodding, "All right. Bakugou, in the front."

Straightening his tie and ignoring the feverish way his pulse thundered against the too tight shirt collar, Toshinori set his shoulders and ducked into the U.A. car.

"Not much leg room in these," he joked, folding his long legs close as Izuku slid in after him.

"Oh... yeah," Izuku replied, distracted and fidgeting with his lip.

 _Ah,_ Toshinori thought with a soft sigh, _His childhood doctor. This is personal for him too..._

With a huff and a grin, he pushed down the memories, his discomfort, and anxious flutter in his gut. Flopping his tail onto Izuku's lap, he tapped the tuft against his knee.

"It's alright," Toshinori assured quietly, giving him a pat on the back, "We'll get this straightened out, my boy."

"Yeah," Izuku nodded stiffly, fingers already tangling in the blonde hair along the back of Toshinori's tail.

The front passenger door shut with a firm _thunk_ as Bakugou sat heavily in his seat _._ Aizawa rounded the car and slipped into the driver side, adjusting his seat before firing the ignition.

"This investigator, Wright, is meeting us at the precinct?" Aizawa asked.

"At the rear door. Yes," Toshinori answered, smiling lopsidedly, "It would be best to avoid the public lobby, I think."

Aizawa hummed in agreement, adjusting the rear view mirror.

Toshinori's ear twitched at a soft, straining squeak of leather, and his gaze flicked down.

Bakugou gripped the arm of his seat, knuckles paling.

 _Jarring for you too, young man? Who was the Good Doctor to you?_ Toshinori frowned thoughtfully and sighed.

He… wasn't the best person to talk with young Bakugou. The young man looked up to him, yes. But he was too proud for his brand of comfort and would more than likely push it away.

Toshinori coughed lightly and met Aizawa's eyes in the mirror, nodding discreetly to the explosive teen.

 _You may be better suited for this one, I think._

Aizawa caught his look and huffed, resigned.

"Seatbelts on? Good," he threw the car into gear and pulled out of the parking space, driving up to the gate.

Toshinori slowly relaxed, shifting to lean against the door when his spikes bumped against his seat.

 _Not the same car. Not the same driver,_ he reminded himself and took out his phone.

Still no reply from Naomasa.

Aizawa showed his ID to the gate guard and the gate slid open.

Bright white lights suddenly flashed, and Aizawa cursed. He accelerated, passing the group of tabloid journalists camped out on the corner opposite the gate. Cameras flashed again and Toshinori ducked behind his arm, blinking the bright lights out of his eyes.

Aizawa clicked his tongue in distaste and griped, "Tabloid vultures." He glanced back and raised a brow at Toshinori's position, "The windows are tinted. I doubt they managed to get a picture of you."

Toshinori sagged in relief, ears drooping, "Ah, thank goodness." He twisted back, catching the group check their cameras before Aizawa turned onto a side road and out of sight, "Have they been there long?"

"For a while. More since Espa. A few of the photographers outside the clinic were able to get partial photographs of your face. They've been circling the net," Aizawa replied with annoyance, "Now the tabloids are chasing rumors about your condition."

"Ah," Toshinori winced. He hadn't heard about that… "My apologies."

Aizawa shrugged, "It was only a matter of time. Even in retirement, you have a particularly persistent following."

Toshinori caught the harmless accusatory look his peer shot him in the rear view mirror, and he smiled meekly.

"There hasn't exactly been a good moment to make a public statement about all this," Toshinori said, gesturing to his body.

It was an excuse, but not unsound. There was no time for press conferences and the media uproar that would surely follow. Not when he was recovering from his _second_ abduction, and certainly not after the kidnapping cases that followed. It was a delicate subject - for himself and U.A.

There would be an absolute _shit show_ if the unsolved abduction cases were connected to U.A. through himself.

He'd given the school and his students enough trouble as it was.

Timing was critical.

 _But when is there_ ever _a right time?_ He sighed, absently tapping his phone.

Toshinori perked when his phone _dinged_ merrily.

[Got your text. Meet you at the precinct in an hour or so.] Naomasa's text read.

Another quickly followed it, and Toshinori's heart sank.

[Second abduction this morning. Two teenagers this time. Tell you more when I see you.]

* * *

The call came in just as they were wrapping up the first abduction scene.

Chris Kougami, age 17. Half-American and visiting relatives in Musutafu. Fortunately for the investigation, Kougami had a Three-banded Armadillo Heteromorph Quirk and stood at an impressive 190 centimeters - very recognizable. His mother told officers Kougami left early to pick up a book on nearby hiking trails at the library and he hadn't come back for breakfast.

"I usually wouldn't worry," she said, worrying the sleeves of her turtleneck sweater, "Even if he gets distracted - and he tends to. He's a very curious boy - he always comes home. But… when I saw the news…"

Naomasa sent a few officers to look for transmission residue near the library. They called back soon after verifying there was the foul-smelling residue and a bright orange backpack just a block from the library.

Kougami's mother confirmed the backpack was his.

Naomasa only just finished reading Toshinori's texts on his way back to his car when his phone rang.

"We just got another call in," Vera Lang said urgently.

A second teen was taken only minutes before.

There was a witness at the scene.

Naomasa cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose, _This makes nine…_

One adult reported after Naomasa's visit with Toshinori. Two in one morning.

After sending a couple brief texts to update Toshinori, Naomasa sped to the Tatooine Station Park.

The park was nestled beside the train station and surrounded by residential apartments and small businesses. Small trees still clinging to their summer leaves framed the space, and a newly renovated playground sat next to the picnic area. At the opposite of the lot, a modest gazebo rose from the center of an immaculate sand garden.

Immaculate, except for a great swath of disturbed sand.

Divots marred the organized lines, like a giant hand scooped the sand from the ground and flung it. Sand covered the stepping stones, and went so far as to dust the grass outside the garden boundaries. Footsteps lead away from the divots in the sand, only to end at a puddle of foul-smelling black residue.

At the edge of the garden, pro-hero Backdraft sectioned off the area, speaking with a local journalist.

"I can't give a comprehensive comment at the moment. Only that my sidekick, Minus-O, witnessed the end of the scuffle and promptly called police." Backdraft spotted Naomasa and excused himself. He approached Naomasa and gestured to the sand garden, "Detective Tsukauchi, I'm glad you were able to arrive so quickly."

Naomasa removed his hat with a polite nod, "I was nearby. Your sidekick saw the incident?"

"Yes," Backdraft said, gesturing to the young costumed woman helping section off the sand garden with Sansa. He called to her, "Minus-O, over here please."

Minus-O jogged over. She was short in stature and wore Musutafu firefighting pants and boots, as well as uniform t-shirt emblazoned with her pro-hero name. Two cylinder tanks and breathing regulators were strapped snugly to her back. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back in a professional bun.

"Sir," she greeted, saluting briefly.

Naomasa took out his notebook and digital recorder, "Can you tell me what happened here?"

Minus-O pointed out the coffee shop peeking around the distant street corner, "I was grabbing coffee before heading into work when I heard a yell. I ran around the corner in time to see sand thrown and a teen running before vanishing in that ooze. There was another man but his back was toward me, and he was wearing a hat. I couldn't get a good look before he disappeared the same way. That was about thirty minutes ago."

Naomasa jotted down the information, noting to check any security cameras that might be pointed in the park's direction.

"Anything else catch your attention?" he asked.

"I know who the kid is," Minus-O said, biting her lip, "Kouichi Sunaba."

Naomasa's brows rose.

"We've contacted his parents. They should be on their way now," Backdraft said with a nod, "He was given permission by the park managers to practice his quirk control as long as he was respectful and left the sand garden neat when he was done."

Minus-O sighed, still worrying her lip, "I saw him here often. He was practicing to test into hero courses next year. He's a sweet kid."

"Kouichi?!"

"Ah. That's them," Backdraft murmured, looking behind Naomasa.

Naomasa turned.

Sunaba's parents, a middle-aged man in a tweed jacket and a tall woman a brightly patterned dress, rushed into the park. They slowed as they came into view of the sand garden and staggered to a stop beside Naomasa.

"Oh my god…" The boy's mother looked over the park, long box braids slipping over her shoulders, and stepped closer to the once pristine sand garden.

"Ma'am, please -" Naomasa held up his hand.

Her lips twisted, pain shining in her eyes, and she asked, "Where is _my son?_ "

Naomasa steeled himself, considering the pair.

They held their breath. Holding out hope and each other.

"At this time, we believe your son may have been taken from this area," Naomasa started.

Mr. Sunaba's features twisted with anger and grief. She stifled a furious sob and scanned the park, as if to find something the police and heroes could not, "Why…?"

Naomasa shook his head, "I'm sorry. I don't know why he was targeted specifically." His expression softened as the boy's parents buckled under the weight of the news, "My team and I are already working on his safe return. I promise you, we will give our all."

Mr. Sunaba nodded, looking lost, and pulled his wife closer, "Is there - Is there anything we can do?"

"Do you have a recent picture of your son?" Naomasa asked.

"Yes," Mrs. Sunaba took a steadying breath and pulled out her phone, "Here." She turned the screen toward Naomasa.

Kouichi waved from the screen. He had warm, dark skin like his mother and tightly braided hair collected in a loose bun. Golden eyes twinkled mischievously as he grinned wide, sand falling from his open hand. Around his eyes and lips were light, speckled patches that matched those on his hands.

"Thank you. Are the light marks vitiligo or part of his quirk?" Naomasa asked, pulling his business card from his coat pocket and offering it.

Mr. Sunaba took it with a small bow as his wife answered, "Vitiligo, yes. It runs in my family. Will that make him easier to find?"

"Distinctive features will make him more immediately recognizable," Naomasa answered carefully.

The forensic technicians' truck pulled alongside the park, and the crime scene photographer nodded in passing as they jogged over to Sansa and the sand garden.

Naomasa gestured to the picnic area and gave the Sunaba's a small smile, "Why don't we sit down for a moment? If you could tell me what your son was wearing, I'll add that to the information we have."

* * *

Cold rain and sleet poured in sheets onto the back parking lot as Aizawa, Toshinori, and their two students rushed to the rear station door. It swung open as Toshinori ushered the boys under the awning and into the building.

"You look like you needed an umbrella."

William Wright closed the door behind them, and the chill wind swirled to a stop. The smell of icy weather and wet asphalt gave way to the dry must of the old building and chemical scent of recently waxed tiled floors. Wright fixed a wayward hair the wind swept out of place and gave them and the space around their shoulders slow, measuring looks.

Young Bakugou immediately bristled at the look, while Izuku continued to brush water out of his hair.

Toshinori forced a light laugh, tail bumping against Bakugou's side as he brushed melting sleet from his shoulders, "It seems so! Of course, we were in a rush."

"Naturally," Wright said, businesslike. He paused, squinting just over Toshinori's shoulder before nodding and starting down the hall, "Follow me. We have a room prepared."

"We're waiting on their parents to arrive," Aizawa said, his voice flat and casual, but expression firm. The unsaid 'No interrogations without their legal guardians' hung heavily in the air.

"You can wait for them in the visitor's lounge," Wright replied easily and continued further into the building.

Toshinori quirked a strained grin when he caught Aizawa's skeptical pout behind his capture weapon, _I see why Wright and Naomasa didn't get along._

Naomasa had never been a fan of aggressively assertive types. Not when so much teamwork was required in his field. The same could be said for professional heroics. Abrasive personalities only made the hard work unnecessarily stressful.

Toshinori's fingers brushed against the business card in his pocket.

 _Wright reached into his suit jacket, "Here's my business card should you think of anything that may help your case or if you have the urge to chat. We share a mutual interest it seems."_

 _Toshinori's ears perked as he took the card, "And that is?"_

 _"All for One."_

 _Toshinori's hackles bristled, and he looked back up at Wright, "You-"_

 _Wright smiled and pat the side of Toshinori's arm, "Get home safe."_

Toshinori shook his head as Wright smoothed back his neatly combed hair. The international investigator certainly liked to throw people off balance. A handy skill for interrogation maybe - not so much for making friends.

Wright led them back into a fairly spacious room furnished with a couple couches, a coffee table, and a small, sugar packet strewn coffee making station by the door, as well as a brightly branded vending machine in the corner.

"Make yourselves comfortable," Wright said, nodding to the picture window facing the central officer bullpen, "The front desk knows to bring the boys' mothers back here."

"Thanks," Aizawa said, sinking into the nearest well-worn, faux-leather couch. Izuku and Bakugou hesitantly followed suit, sitting on the far sides of the free couch.

Peering through the window, Toshinori caught Aizawa's attention and nodded to the hall, "I think it would be best if I wasn't here when they do come in."

Aizawa grunted once in understanding, settling further into the couch cushions.

"Why don't we go down the hall," Wright suggested. He stepped out of the guest room and held the door for Toshinori.

Toshinori flashed a smile at Izuku and Bakugou, giving them an encouraging thumbs up before ducking into the hall. Shutting the door, Toshinori sighed and regarded Wright with a strained smile, "Where to?"

Wright suddenly grimaced, squinting, "First, let's get this out of the way. My quirk detects even the slightest bit of dishonesty as a bright, white light." Wright pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed under his eyes, "Including well-intentioned, false smiles."

Toshinori's brows rose in surprise, smile dropping, "Eh? Is that so?"

Wright breathed a relieved sigh and nodded, "I… understand your motivation, but you _certainly_ don't need to smile for my sake. I actually prefer if you didn't."

"I… see," Toshinori stammered, suppressing a twitch of an awkward grin, "My apologies."

Wright waved dismissively and sauntered toward the interrogation rooms, "I understand you're getting approval to work with us. I assume Detective Tsukauchi updated you today?"

Toshinori paused, tail flicking thoughtfully, then followed after the oddly blunt foreign investigator, "Yes. Two more people were reported missing this morning."

Toshinori's hackles bristled, _Two teenagers… Kids._ He absently rubbed his wrists, faded scars hidden beneath his cuffs, _No one should ever go through that._

In his pocket, his cell phone buzzed twice. Pulling it out, Toshinori stole a glance at the screen. His shoulders sagged in relief.

[Wrapped up here. Heading to the precinct soon.] Naomasa's text read.

"In here," Wright called from further down the hall, stopping and holding open a heavy wooden door.

Toshinori pocketed his phone and stepped into the dimly lit room. His eyes immediately adjusted to the dark. Color faded as the edges of the tables, darkened computer monitors, and the porous ceiling tiles came into sharp focus. Two windows overlooked the rooms on either side, each with a table and sets of chairs inside.

 _Observation Room_ , Toshinori remembered, glancing around at the recording equipment and headsets. His ears perked, tail swaying curiously, brushing against the chairs tucked against the tables.

"It's been a while since I've been on this side of an investigation," Toshinori admitted and playfully made a loose fist, "I usually kept to the field unless they needed a little more muscle in here. Brings me back."

Wright hummed behind him, "I heard you were resting and couldn't come in."

 _Naomasa._ Toshinori quirked a fond, lopsided smile, _Still watching my back._

"Well, that's certainly true. Recovery takes time," he chuckled softly. Turning to Wright, he straightened his neatly tailored suit jacket, "But then again, I've never been able to sit still for very long. Not when I can still be of use."

Wright crossed his arms, shifting as he looked Toshinori up and down. Sharp green eyes examined the area around Toshinori's shoulders and finally settled on his face.

"All Might and Toshinori Yagi … seem like two very different people," Wright finally said, brows pinched.

Toshinori barked a loud laugh and shook his head, "Not at all! I assure you, I am only one person!" He wheezed, catching his breath. Plucking a handkerchief from his breast pocket, he wiped a dot of blood from his lip, "Although, I'm certain you aren't the first to think so."

A small frown tugged at the corner of Wright's mouth.

Toshinori's tail swayed contently, and he offered the conflicted investigator a lopsided grin, "I'm sure there will be plenty of time for you to give your final verdict on me."

"I'm sure," Wright echoed thoughtfully.

Toshinori huffed a soft laugh when the investigator's arms remained crossed. He pulled out a chair with his tail and made himself comfortable. Glancing at his watch, Toshinori -

"The Good Doctor."

Toshinori tensed, turning his attention back to Wright.

Wright's face remained impassive, but his forefinger tapped against his elbow. Sharp and stiff little jerking motions.

"What kind of man is the Good Doctor?" Wright asked.

The smallest shiver raced down Toshinori's spine. His lips pressed in a thin frown.

"Dangerous," Toshinori answered after a moment, brushing his thumb over his palm and up his pinkie finger. The clipped claw was nearly back to its original length, and the cut end of the quick had long since healed. The cut tip was likely with the rest of the samples found at Espa Clinic. Bits and pieces of his own body stored away in evidence.

 _"Honestly, you're worse than half the children I see."_

 _"He was my doctor."_

"The worst kind of villain," Toshinori decided, "Cut from the same cloth as All for One. Manipulative and self-serving. Abuses whatever trust he gains to get what he wants or satisfy his morbid curiosity."

The fog stirred at the back of his mind, tinged with saltwater and _protect._ He shoved it back with a long, slow breath.

 _Izuku's in the other room. Safe,_ he reassured it - reassured himself.

"Thank you," Wright's voice was quiet, and his arms finally dropped to his sides. He sighed and nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets, "For being honest."

There was a knock at the door and Officer Noboru peeked inside, "Midoriya and Bakugou's parents are here."

"Good," Wright straightened, sparing Toshinori a parting glance as he joined the officer in the hall, "It shouldn't take too long to explain the situation."

The door closed with a soft click and left Toshinori in the dark, his eyes faintly reflecting a pale, glowing blue in the one-way mirror. He sagged in his seat and ran a hand down his face, brushing away memories of leather straps, syringes, and the tastes of sterile metal and latex.

* * *

A dark inferno raged cold in the center of All for One's chest as power flowed in his veins.

Quirks. Dozens of names he'd forgotten over the decades. Nevertheless, he intimately knew each and every one: uses, activation, drawbacks, the best pairs and stacks of them.

Except the most recent addition to his collection.

Reaching into that fire, All for One plucked out the unfamiliar quirk and _breathed_ into the small spark. The quirk flared in his veins and blades like fins sprung from his skin, rippling down his arms and over his hands.

"Interesting," All for One pondered with an amused smile, flexing the quirk, pushing it. The blades grew longer, sharper, and stuttered to a stop. He ran his fingertips along the longest blade, "Ten centimeters. Could use improvement."

His lips twitched, and he smiled, spreading his fingers and stretching his _Reach._

His fingertips unraveled and morphed into black and red geometric claws. Activating both quirks, he sensed the short blades multiplying along each jagged digit like thorny vines.

Chuckling, All for One released the quirks and retracted his fingers, "A curious combination… But one I have no use for."

 _Perhaps a noumu…_

 _Search_ flared at the back of All for One's mind and he pulled through the _Warp_.

Moments later, there was a distant splash and unfamiliar coughing. An angry bellow and frantic struggle vibrated through the old walls as the Doctor's newest subject got his feet underneath him.

 _Search_ added a bruising blow to the Doctor's thigh to his short list of weaknesses.

Another terrified shout sent minute tremors through the walls as the Doctor called on his noumu, and the struggling abruptly ceased.

The door down the hall opened and closed with an echoing clack.

All for One steepled his fingers and waited.

Familiar footsteps shuffled closer, and finally the door to his own temporary home opened.

"Doctor," All for One greeted without turning. He grinned, "You seem agitated."

The Doctor's hazy form lit up as he limped across the room, brushing thick transmission residue from his coat, "I was recognized."

"Oh?"

"The boy, Sunaba, recognized my face," the Doctor griped, shaking what sounded like sand from his clothes, "A composite sketch was released to the media this morning."

"You underestimated _him,_ " All for One said easily. He'd made the same mistake.

The Doctor's lip curled, but he measured his clipped response, "Apparently, All Might has a _remarkable_ memory for faces, even heavily drugged." He shuffled around, checking the hissing, beeping medical equipment plugged into All for One, "At the very least, my subjects are all collected. I have most of what I need, but it will be difficult going out and retrieving supplies myself."

"So your movements are restricted, are they?" All for One sneered lightly, running his fingertips down the tubes and wires draped over his suit, "A shame."

"It's only a setback, and certainly not the first," the Doctor bristled and grumbled, "I'll adapt."

All for One chuckled, "I am sure you will."

He allowed the Doctor to fume silently for a moment, then tapped his steepled fingers thoughtfully, "Are you content with your selection?"

The Doctor clicked his tongue, but nodded, "Sunaba makes ten. A decent selection I've split in two groups. The first few are making progress, faster now with the growth accelerant in their water." Satisfied with the tangle of tubes across All for One's chest, the Doctor crossed the room to his computer, "Other than fatigue, it should not negatively affect their minds. I don't want my results tainted."

He grinned and chuckled, "I have high hopes. If All Might survived the repeated rebound from that healing quirk, my subjects should be able to handle a manufactured derivative easily enough."

The Doctor clicked at his computer, rubbing his mustache as he rambled, "Group One has some small freedom of movement. Generously sized observation cells, escorted bathroom trips -" he smirked - "and some bargaining power with me. All to give them some sense of autonomy. If I'm right, that may prove to have some positive effects."

All for One nodded, half-listening. His awareness branched out, sensing the heat and movement beyond his small room.

"What are their quirks?" He asked, flexing his fingers and rubbing at his palms.

Scrolling down his list, the Doctor read, "In Group One: Mirai Shimeno, Quirk _Fast Forward._ A emitter type predictive quirk limited to herself and a six hour cut-off point. Details are apparently difficult for her to make out, and overuse causes moderate to severe vertigo. She is currently reacting well to _Ram Horns_. No mental degradation, but she is showing behavioral adaptation. Very promising.

"Souma Ogawa, Quirk _Blow Off Steam._ Emitter type. He heats and exhales steam, limited by his lung capacity. It caused an interesting mutation of the _Scales_ quirk. I'm not yet sure what the changes may be other than his manageable overheating and the developing tail. I was concerned he wouldn't remain cognitively intact, but he's still communicating."

The Doctor glanced at All for One, "Nozomi Shishiki, previously Quirkless. I'm testing her quirk factor tolerance with _Chromatophore_. It would be a shame to overwhelm her system so early. There aren't many like her these days."

"No, not many," All for One agreed.

"Chris Kougami - half American," the Doctor explained with a careless gesture, "Heteromorph type _Armadillo Form_. Self-explanatory. I may give him _Geode._ Inorganic quirks are difficult to work with, but he's young and heteromorphs fair better with drastic change, in my experience.

"Lastly, Taeka Yoyogi. Quirk _Sphinx Form_ and _Vanish._ Incredible subject with both a heteromorph and emitter quirk. Quadruped lioness body - much like classical sphinx imagery - and limited invisibility."

"Oh?" All for One asked. His fingers twitched curiously, and he ran a thumb over his palm, "Limited how?"

"She remains invisible for as long as she is motionless," the Doctor clarified, looking up from his list, "A simple survival quirk."

All for One's thumb circled the divot in the center of his palm, nail catching against its edge.

The Doctor sent aside his notes and chuckled, "Has that caught your interest?"

All for One grinned.

* * *

Naomasa stopped by the conference room first, exchanging quiet greetings with Lang and Tsuda as he crossed to the whiteboard at the end of the room.

Seven photographs lined the middle of the board in two columns, each a confirmed case of abduction by transmission. Red twine stretched from the magnetic tacks pinning each to the board and connected to the location of residue found at each abduction site. Dated. Timestamped.

Naomasa solemnly pinned the photographs of Chris Kougami and Kouichi Sunaba to the board and marked off where the transmission quirk residue had been found. Two more locations where the abductees frequented: Another library and a community park.

 _Still within the same general area,_ Naomasa frowned thoughtfully, stepping back to view the whole map.

The pharmacy shared by Souma Ogawa, Kousuke Shiga, and Tayori Yamadori came up clean. Its supply chain was unconnected to Rishi General Hospital, and it had no spotty history as a locally owned business. Beyond that, according to the families of the other abductees, they used different pharmacies and clinics spread out across the map.

Given that information, the theory of the pharmacy acting as a central point was unlikely.

 _So,_ Naomasa paused at each marked medical facility and warehouse, _Assuming the transmission quirk has a limited range, you have to be based somewhere within reach of the abduction sites. Where?_

"Detective Tsukauchi?" Officer Ishii called from the opened doorway. The noise of the bullpen, distant phones ringing and office chatter, filtered in from behind her.

"Yes?" Naomasa asked, fingers deftly tying red twine to the new abduction locations.

Officer Ishii pointed over her shoulder with a jab of her thumb, "Field techs from the Kougami scene are back and heading to evidence."

"Could you ask Yori to send up an initial report when they have it?" Naomasa requested. He pulled off his coat, draping it over the back of a chair, and set his hat beside it.

"Sure thing," Ishii said. She stepped away only to lean back through the doorway, "Also! Wright said the U.A. students' parents arrived and are down the hall. Their teachers are in the observation room."

"Thanks. I'll head there now," Naomasa said and, grabbing his notepad on his way out of the conference room, made his way to the quieter corner of the building.

He rapped twice on the door to the observation room before pushing it open, "Have I missed anything?"

Inside, Toshinori startled in his seat, tail bumping the underside of the monitor-laden table with a dull _thunk._

"Detective," Eraserhead greeted calmly from the far side of the small room. His gaze remained fixed on the one-way mirror and into the interrogation room, ignoring Toshinori as he rubbed at his bumped tail.

"Nothing yet here," Toshinori said, letting his tail go with a tender pat, "The boys' mothers arrived not too long ago." He rocked up and out of his seat and brushed non-existent wrinkles from the front of his blue, pinstripe jacket, "You got my texts?"

"Yeah. You mentioned Midoriya and Bakugou might have recognized our ' _Good Doctor_.' We'll need confirmation from their parents if he was their pediatrician…" Naomasa paused.

A small smile slipped onto his face as he looked up at Toshinori, "You're wearing your suit."

Ears perking, Toshinori grinned and tugged the suit's front straight, "Ah, yes. Isamu was kind enough to send a few of my suits to his family tailor. Fortunately, I won't need to replace my whole wardrobe!"

"No kidding," Naomasa agreed. He moved further into the dim room and gestured through the one way mirror. Inside, Wright passed a small water cup to Mrs. Midoriya with a polite smile, "Has Wright given you any trouble?"

"No _trouble,_ " Toshinori snorted, and his tail nudged Naomasa's side amicably, "But he's certainly a character."

"Does he purposefully come off as an ass?" Eraserhead grumbled, earning a barely muffled, choked laugh from Toshinori.

"Now now, Aizawa -" Toshinori coughed and pat his chest - "That's a little harsh."

Eraserhead side-eyed Toshinori, saying flatly, "It's a fair observation."

 _That's true,_ Naomasa refrained from saying aloud, schooling his expression.

"Anything I should know before heading in there?" he asked instead.

Toshinori shot Eraserhead a lopsided smile and gestured to Mrs. Bakugou and Mrs. Midoriya, "Those two are quite the protective pair." He paused, expression sobering, "And the boys seemed shaken when they recognized the Doctor. I… think it's fair to say they've both made the connection between my own abduction and the recent ones. And what that could mean for those abducted by the Doctor."

Toshinori's tail twitched and curled uneasily around the middle of the desk chair.

Naomasa discreetly pat Toshinori's back.

"I suggest against coddling them," Eraserhead spoke up.

"Of course," Naomasa answered easily. He'd been present when both heroes-in-training were debriefed after the Kiyashi Ward Mall and Kamino incidents. They handled themselves well enough.

"Alright," clapping his notepad against his palm, Naomasa nodded, "Let's see what they know."

* * *

Izuku tapped his fingers against his knee in nervous thought, biting the tip of his thumb to keep from muttering.

 _Dr. Tsubasa is working for All for One. He was at the clinic where Shigaraki took All Might. All Might described his face in the sketch from the news. Detective Tsukauchi said they tried to_ reprogram _All Might's imprint… As if All Might is anything like a - a real noumu. Dr. Tsubasa probably -_ Izuku's stomach churned, and he swallowed roughly - _He probably helps_ make _noumu. So, all those abductions -_

Bakugou's elbow _thunked_ loudly against the table, interrupting Izuku's speeding thoughts. He glared at the opposite end of the room, only sparing Izuku a brief, uneasy glance before returning his attention to the wall.

 _Yeah…_ Izuku sighed and tapped at his knee again, _Those people he abducted are in danger. We could help with what we… with what we remember. We have to help save them in any possible way we can._

There was a knock on the door, and Izuku straightened in his seat as it swung open.

"Sorry about the wait," Detective Tsukauchi said. He closed the door quietly behind him, "I hope we didn't call you in at bad time."

"Detective Tsukauchi," Inko Midoriya set down her foam cup of water, nervously running her thumb up and down its side, "No, it's alright. Aizawa-sensei mentioned it was important."

"It's my day off," Mitsuki Bakugou said with a shrug, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair. She ruffled Bakugou's hair and smirked teasingly when he bristled and swat her hand away, "I'm just glad it isn't _another_ emergency."

Tsukauchi smiled politely and rounded the table. He nodded to the other investigator - William Wright, he'd said his name was - where he'd settled in a chair in the corner, jotting something down in his notepad.

Tsukauchi pulled out a chair and sat in the center of the table across from Izuku's and Bakugou's mothers, hands folding together in front of him professionally, "We appreciate you coming in on such short notice. It's our understanding you may have some very crucial information regarding the recent abductions across Musutafu."

"The abductions?" Inko tensed beside Izuku, and he took her hand beneath the table, squeezing gently.

 _It's alright, Mom._

"I - um -" Izuku pointed at Bakugou and himself, "We saw someone on the news that we recognized… from when we were little."

Inko sagged in relief. Sighing, she pat his hand, "Someone from the news. Okay."

Izuku offered his mother a wobbly smile, _Sorry I made you worry again._

Detective Tsukauchi flipped through a small folder Wright left on the table and pulled out two slips of paper, "Do either of you recognize this man?"

Izuku braced as Tsukauchi placed the small sheets on the table, frowning down at the photo and composite sketch of Dr. Tsubasa. The same photographs from the morning newscast.

"Oh my!" Inko gasped sharply at Izuku's side, looking between him and the images, "That's…"

"Dr. Tsubasa?" Mitsuki Bakugou leaned forward and pulled the photograph closer, brows furrowing lightly, "Yeah, I used to take Katsuki to him for his yearly check-ups. What does he have to do with the abductions?"

"He's currently our prime suspect," Wright chimed in from the corner of the room. He paused, hands folding together, fingers intertwined, "You seem surprised."

"Well, yes," Mitsuki's brows pinched further, "He just - I would have never pegged him for some crazy kidnapper. Granted, it's been _years._ "

Izuku's mother nodded uncertainly, "Dr. Tsubasa was maybe a little odd. Eccentric, I mean. But never _dangerous_ …"

Tsukauchi wrote something down on his notepad, "You saw him often?"

Inko paused and gave Izuku's hand a small squeeze, "Well, he was Izuku's primary pediatrician at the Children's Evazan Clinic. Since Izuku was a - um - late bloomer, we needed a specialist in quirk development. He came highly recommended."

"The C.E. Clinic is on the same block as the elementary school," Mitsuki added slowly, "Lots of the other parents brought their kids there. All things considered, it was more affordable than most of the other childcare clinics in the area."

If Izuku hadn't already been interviewed by Detective Tsukauchi before, he may have missed the way the crease on Tsukauchi's brow deepened marginally, expression darkening.

Whatever the detective's thoughts, his voice was level when he asked, "About how long ago was this?"

"I started taking Izuku to him when he was around four," Inko paused to think, "It must have been - Yes, eleven years ago."

Wright looked up from his notes, brows raised and eyes wide for a beat before catching Izuku looking his way. The foreign investigator's expression relaxed, returning to neutral, as he added to his own notes.

 _Something significant?_ Izuku wondered, brow furrowing curiously.

"Masaru and I took him to Dr. Tsubasa for Quirk Potential Testing when Katsuki started burning holes through his play shirts," Mitsuki said, arm draped across Bakugou's shoulders, "Ten or eleven years sounds right. I can probably find the appointment slips in my records."

Tsukauchi nodded and asked, "And for how long was he your pediatrician?"

Izuku pinched his lip, thinking back.

The last appointment he could remember…

"I was nine or ten, I think?" Izuku murmured.

"Same for me," Bakugou said gruffly, squirming out from under his mother's arm.

"Well, he and his grandson moved away around six years ago. I remember it took a while to find a replacement," Mitsuki said, settling her arm on the back of her son's chair.

 _Six years…?_

Inko nodded, "It was a rather small clinic."

Izuku stiffened, fist curling in his lap.

 _"This was never made public. That is, I_ ** _asked_** _that it not be made public…"_

 _All Might held up his shirt. The debilitating scar cratering his thin side spread in jagged lines over his impossibly bony chest, bruised and inflamed red._

 _"Five years ago…" All Might wheezed, "An enemy did this to me."_

 _Five years…_ Izuku bit his lip, _Plus the ten months of hell training and…_

A small, cold stone settled in the pit of Izuku's stomach.

All Might injured All for One in that fight too. Injured enough to assume he was gone, at least until the attack on USJ. If Dr. Tsubasa really was his doctor - The timeline worked out.

"You said he moved with his grandson?" Tsukauchi asked slowly.

Tense silence answered.

Brows pinching and lips pressed in a strained line, Izuku shared an uneasy look with Bakugou.

 _Dr. Tsubasa's grandson._

Izuku hadn't thought about him in a long time.

Hiroshi Tsubasa. Short and a little chubby for his age, close cut hair, and big red wings. He was in the background of nearly every one of Izuku's childhood memories. He'd… always been quick to cheer on Kacchan and quick to jeer at Izuku.

"You don't think he would be in danger, do you?" Inko asked, quietly concerned.

"Right now, we can't know that for sure," Detective Tsukauchi answered honestly, "Do you know his grandson's name? What he looked like."

"Hiroshi," Bakugou answered.

"I have a picture, I think," Mitsuki dug into her purse and retrieved her wallet. She opened it and let the accordion picture book unfold and flop onto the table. Each sleeve was filled with pictures of baby, toddler, and middle school Kacchan.

"M-!" Bakugou bristled. A panicked, mortified look flashed across his face before settling on insulted, "Mom! Don't - _ghk!_ "

Izuku stared, eyes wide as Mitsuki held Bakugou at arm's length as she easily flipped through the small photos.

"Here it is," she said, pulling the second to last photo from the sleeve, "This one's the most recent, I believe this was from the final ceremony - What was it? Second - no third grade? Hiroshi is on the right, here."

"You two were friends? Have you kept in contact at all?" Tsukauchi asked and pulled the picture toward himself, murmuring, "Wings?"

 _Wings._

"Not really," Bakugou answered as he shook off his mother's hand, fuming, "He moved away and didn't say where. It wasn't like it was his first move. Said he was used to it. I didn't ask."

 _Wait…_

Frowning, Izuku pinched his lip, mind racing. There was… something…

 _The Doctor from Espa Clinic. The doctor responsible for the noumu. Hiroshi's grandfather. Hiroshi, who's been away for years. Wings. Noumu._

Izuku sat back in his chair, eyes wide.

 _Wings!_

Izuku felt phantom claws grip around his abdomen, squeezing the air from his lungs and tugging him high into the air. High above Hosu.

His stomach dropped, and he gripped the sides of his chair as if the ground would fall out from under him.

Inko gave Izuku's arm a sudden squeeze, "Izuku honey, are you alright?"

"I'm…" The words caught in Izuku's throat. Horror sunk heavily in his gut.

 _Izuku struggled, pressed to the ground._

 _"Both this sham-filled society… and the criminals who wield their power in the name of petty mischief… are the targets of my purge…" Stain panted above him, voice haggard, "All for the sake… of a better society."_

 _His knife slashed._

 _Blood splattered._

 _The winged noumu twitched and stilled, blood pooling on the pavement._

Izuku pressed a hand to his mouth, arms shaking.

 _Tsubasa?_

"I'm … worried about Hiroshi..." Izuku said softly, swallowing his building nausea.

" _Huh?_ " Bakugou squinted at Izuku, brows furrowed.

In the corner of the room, Wright stood up from his chair, eyes narrowing and watching the space around Izuku's shoulders.

"It's not just that," the foreign investigator said slowly.

"Midoriya?" Tsukauchi pressed lightly.

"If… If Dr. Tsubasa is the one abducting people… I'm worried about Hiroshi," Izuku shifted, gaze darting briefly to Bakugou.

 _He wasn't there. He wasn't in Hosu. He wouldn't know…_

"I don't want to jump to conclusions…" he mumbled.

Wright hummed, "Looks like you already have."

Izuku folded his hands in his lap, brows creased. He sighed and finally looked to Detective Tsukauchi, "Do you remember Hosu? The… one that grabbed me -"

 _Of all the people on the street - it chose_ ** _me_ **_._

Izuku shivered.

 _Don't be right. I don't_ want _to be right._

"The noumu with wings."

Tsukauchi's brows rose, and he and Wright shared a brief, grim look.

"We'll look into it," Tsukauchi said.

"Izuku?" Inko pat Izuku's folded hands, "What do you mean?"

"Wh- ?" Bakugou stiffened in his chair. Realization, denial, and disgust flashed across his face. Teeth bared, he ground out, "That _shitty old man._ "

"Excuse me?" Mitsuki interjected, pinning the teens with an intense stare, " _Hosu?_ Noumu? Like those things at Kamino? What are you two not telling us?"

"My apologies," Tsukauchi raised his hand soberly, "That information has to do with an older case. As for what we can tell you - This is an ongoing investigation. There is only so much I am able to share, but it is our belief that he is also tied with the Villain Alliance, partly responsible for the incidents in Hosu," He nodded to Bakugou, "And Kamino."

With a tired, disbelieving huff, Mitsuki sat back in her chair. She placed her hand on Bakugou's shoulder, squeezing, "I see…"

Silence hung in the air by a string. Tense. Fraying.

"Is there anything else you can remember about Dr. Tsubasa?" Tsukauchi asked quietly.

"No," Mitsuki murmured.

"I'm sorry," Inko shook her head.

"That's alright," Tsukauchi gave them a sympathetic smile.

Standing with a soft grunt, he bowed his head formally, "We don't need the details of any doctor appointments, but if you _do_ still have slips with dates or any sort of contact information, that would be a great help. Other than that, I think that's all for today. Thank you for coming in."

Going to the door, Tsukauchi opened it and called to the officer outside. He held the door open as Inko and Mitsuki stepped quietly into the hall.

"Noboru will take you back up to the front. Ah-" Tsukauchi reached into his breast pocket and offered Mitsuki and Inko each his card, "And if you can think of anything else, call this number at any time."

They nodded and thanked Tsukauchi.

"If Dr. Tsubasa is the man you're looking for, I hope you catch the son of a bitch," Mitsuki stated, lips drawn in a tight line as she watched her son shove his fists into his pockets.

Inko frowned and nodded, glaring at the floor as she squeezed Izuku's hand.

 _Mom…_ Izuku squeezed back gently.

"We'll do what we can," Detective Tsukauchi promised.

The door to the observation room clicked open, and Aizawa-sensei ducked into the hall. He adjusted his capture gear and shut the door behind him.

Tsukauchi gave him a curious look, and Aizawa nodded slightly to the door and scrubbed his hand through his hair with a sigh.

"If we're all done here, I can take young Bakugou and Midoriya back to U.A." he said flatly.

Mitsuki and Inko shared a small look.

"How about lunch?" Mitsuki asked, tugging Bakugou into a one-armed hold.

Bakugou jolted out of his thoughts and struggled, snapping, "Let go of me, you old -"

"My treat," Mitsuki interrupted, ignoring Bakugou as he fumed.

"I really shouldn't -" Aizawa hesitated.

Inko insisted, "Even teachers need to eat, Aizawa-sensei."

Aizawa looked between the two mothers, glancing back at the observation room, and nodded, "Alright then."

"Great!" Mitsuki grinned and lead the way down the hall, dragging Bakugou along with her.

"Mrs. Midoriya, did you drive here?" Aizawa asked.

Inko released Izuku's hand with a pat and shook her head, "I took the train."

"I'll drive you," Aizawa offered as he followed her toward the front.

Hanging back, Izuku turned and looked around.

 _Where's… All Might?_

Detective Tsukauchi cleared his throat and pointed to the observation room door. The door creaked open as All Might peeked outside. His ears perked when he spotted Izuku, and he waved with a lopsided grin.

"I'm going to keep him here for a while," Tsukauchi said with a small snort as he shooed the tuft of All Might's tail back into the room, "He has some paperwork to fill out."

"Oh," Izuku nodded. He lowered his voice, "I'll see you later, All Might."

All Might chuckled quietly and gave Izuku a thumbs up, "Don't give Aizawa any trouble, my boy."

* * *

There were no more empty cells.

In the cell to Taeka's right was a kid no older than eighteen, she was sure. The poor boy had curled into a tight ball the moment he'd been chained to the floor. Like herself, he had an animal-based heteromorph quirk. Armadillo, she figured, based on the leathery armored plates and the defensive ball.

"Hey," Taeka called gently, patting the glass wall between them again, "The Doctor is gone. You can come out."

The teen flinched and curled tighter.

Taeka sighed, glancing back and shrugging at the others.

"That gray one… Is it gone too?" came a muffled voice.

 _Finally_. Taeka smiled sympathetically. She pushed down a sudden spike of nausea, swallowed roughly, and nodded, "Yeah, it's gone too."

Hesitantly, the ball of leathery armor loosened and between the plates a small gap opened. Two long ears perked and swiveled from the gap before the teen peeked out.

"I'm Taeka Yoyogi. What's your name?" Taeka asked quietly, tucking her paws into her hoodie's pockets.

"Chris," he said, voice deep but shy, "Er - Kougami."

Chris uncurled the rest of the way and rocked up, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Under the leather armor, he wore a puffy maroon coat and an unseasonable Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. His ears twitched as he looked around the cold, grey room, eyes widening in uncertain terror. Taking a slow, nervous breath, he asked, "Where are we?"

Taeka winced and, glancing back at Mirai, hesitantly explained, "We think we're in a hospital. Someplace with a morgue. Do you remember where you were taken?"

Fear flashing in his eyes, Chris shivered and hunched. His ears swiveled nervously.

"I-I was at the library." He stammered, then shook his head and gave Taeka a strained look, "A _morgue?_ "

"Sorry…" Taeka murmured, "If it helps, I haven't been here long either."

 _How long_ has _it been?_ She placed a paw to her abdomen, _It was so fast._

The stranger in the coat from the alley, the Doctor, stole her away only steps away from home.

 _Marc must be worried sick..._

Shivering, Taeka rubbed her abdomen gently, pausing as she brushed lower.

There it was. That slight curve.

Chris perked, and he leaned over, peeking behind Taeka, "Who're they?"

Taeka shifted back, chain dragging across the floor as she sat against the back wall.

"That's Mirai, Souma, and Nozomi," Taeka named each, "Mirai was here first."

Mirai nodded in the furthest cell, wrapped up in her blanket, and asked, "Can you hear me from there?"

"Y-yeah…" Chris answered, pulling his thin, plated tail into his lap and fidgeting.

He froze, ears swiveling to the door, and hunched further. He drew his knees up to his chest, "Someone's coming."

They quieted.

Taeka strained her ears and held completely still, ignoring Chris's squeak of surprise when she vanished.

Hard-soled shoes _clacked_ down the hall. The footsteps slow, measured.

Taeka's hackles stood on end and she unsheathed her claws, flickering in and out of sight again.

 _It's someone else. Someone different._

"She's just in here," the Doctor said as he opened the door and stepped inside.

Mirai whimpered a curse and lowered her horns in Taeka's periphery, and steam hissed from Souma's cell.

"Oh _my god,_ " Nozomi whimpered and faded to a pale yellow, black and bright blue rings blooming across her skin. She shook her head and covered her mouth with a trembling hand.

Chris retreated into his armored ball with a choked cry of terror.

 _It's him_.

They all knew. Of course, they knew.

The masked villain from the Kamino Ward Battle.

All Might's final stand.

Ground Zero.

Countless casualties.

The end of the Era of Peace streamed live worldwide.

The only villain known to have mysteriously escaped Tartarus.

"She's in the fourth cell, Sensei," the Doctor chuckled, "Already displaying her quirk."

 _Sensei_ turned his masked face, tilting it ever so slightly. Toward Taeka.

"Heat signature doesn't appear affected," the villain's deep voice sent an icy spear through Taeka's chest.

 _Me._ She felt sick. _He's talking about me._

She didn't move.

"Sphinx Form you said…" Sensei stepped closer to her cell. His shoes clicked loud against the tile floor, "Tell me, Doctor, do you have a quirk in mind?"

"At least one for her. I am, as always, open to suggestion," the Doctor replied easily, following behind him with his keys.

 _No. Oh god. Stay away. Stay away!_

Taeka's breathing shuddered, and she flickered.

"There you are," the Doctor's eyes locked onto her as she vanished again.

 _No no no - Don't touch me._

A tear rolled down Taeka's face as the cell door opened and Sensei stepped inside.

"I have something that may work well with her," the villain said easily, "A trade for what I will take. Quirk for Quirk."

" _No!_ " Taeka bellowed and lunged in a panic, claws tearing through the villain's suit.

A hand closed around her mouth, and Taeka bit down with a throat-tearing roar.

 _Not my baby! You_ won't _hurt my baby!_

" _Taeka!_ "

Blood seeped between her teeth. Sharp. Metallic.

Something in her chest snuffed out.

Taeka screamed.

Something else took its place.

* * *

"Taeka?"

The floor was cold and hard against Taeka's side. The tile scraped roughly against her temple. A bruising ache thrummed through her body. It radiated out from between her shoulder blades and down her limbs, slowly painting her body back into place.

She tasted blood - tacky and metallic on her tongue.

"Taeka."

Someone rapped their knuckle against glass. The sound echoed and lingered, ringing like a tuning fork.

Taeka winced.

 _What -?_

A strange, feather-soft weight brushed against her back - a warm twitch that sent a shudder down her spine.

Taeka gasped awake, head swimming as she scrambled to her feet.

"Taeka! Are you okay?" Nozomi asked, knocking on the glass.

Chris pressed close to the wall between them, "You were unconscious for so -"

Taeka shook her head, short and sharp, and held up a paw. She pressed her free paw to her belly, searching.

There it was. Unchanged. That little growing bump.

A relieved sob tore out of Taeka's throat, "Thank God. _Thank God._ "

"Oh my god," she distantly heard Mirai gasp, "She's pregnant. Why didn't you -? You didn't _say_ anything to us."

Taeka shook her head again, hair falling down around her face and nausea roiling in her gut as she curled forward.

"Ah -" she winced.

That warm weight - no - weights shifted against her back, pinned beneath her hoodie.

They twitched. She _felt_ them.

"What - What the _hell?_ " she shuddered, goosebumps spreading across her skin.

"There's something in your shirt!" Chris squawked, hunching in a half ball.

Cold panic seized her, and Taeka scrambled. Her claws hooked in the hem of her hoodie and she tugged it over her head, tossing it across the cell.

She froze.

Two white, down feathers fluttered in front of her face, falling in lazy spirals to the floor. Taeka reached out and stopped just short of touching them. The weights on her back shifted again.

"Oh my…" Nozomi breathed, covering her mouth. Her skin fluctuated, pale.

 _"These horns aren't mine,"_ Mirai had said.

 _"I .. was Quirkless,"_ Nozomi had confessed.

Taeka gasped through her teeth. She hadn't _wanted_ to believe them.

Swallowing roughly, she pulled her hair to one side and looked over her shoulder.

Wings. Each no longer than her forearms and covered in light white down feathers. Peeking through the fresh down were speckled golden brown and grey feathers. They sprouted seamlessly from between her shoulder blades, separated by the center strap of her gym tank top.

Chris curled into a ball with a quiet _thump._

"Taeka?" Mirai called.

Taeka tore her gaze from the growing wings, blinking astonished tears from her eyes.

Mirai pressed her horned forehead to the glass of her cell, lips pressed in a thin line. Souma grimaced sympathetically, scales glinting in the light. Nozomi sat back against her calves, skin unnaturally pale and flashing faint orange spots.

All staring.

Taeka wanted to disappear. To get their eyes off her. To -

A shudder rushed down her spine as she stilled, willing herself to vanish.

"Taeka," Mirai hesitated, then nodded, horns bumping into the glass,"You're… We're going to be okay."

They were still staring.

 _They can see -?_

Taeka squeezed her eyes shut, holding herself tense.

"Taeka -" Nozomi called gently.

"I can't -" Taeka shivered and stared at her arms, holding still.

Nothing.

She didn't disappear.

"My quirk. It isn't working-" She shook her arms and tensed, teeth gritting and voice breaking, "I can't _feel it anymore._ I can't vanish. He did _something else to me._ "

Souma's brows pinched in confusion. Behind him, Mirai's brows raised in realization.

"Oh," Mirai sat heavily back, "He _took_ it, didn't he? Just like … Mr. Miya." She ran her fingertips over the curve of her horns.

 _A trade. Quirk for Quirk._

Fatigue rushed through Taeka's body. Shivering, she curled into herself. Her fledgling wings folded weakly against her back, aching and itching fiercely as down feathers floated to the floor.

Taeka pressed softly against her belly.

"I need to get out," she whimpered. _Before they take something else._

"We will," Mirai swore, "We already have a plan. We just need to hold on."

Taeka nodded mutely.

Mirai pressed her hand to the glass, "We're getting you and your baby out. I promise, we will."

* * *

The sink across from their cells was dripping again. _Tap… Tap… Tapping_ into the wide, metal utility sink.

"So... You can't break your chains?" The new kid, Kouichi Sunaba, asked quietly to Shin'ya Misawa's far right. The fight had gone out of his voice the moment that Doctor left. Replaced with fear, uncertainty, and a curious bravado only teens possessed.

 _Tap… tap… tap…_

"Afraid not, kiddo," Mamoru Tani sighed, "I may look it, but I don't have a strength quirk."

The sharp jangle of chains shocked Shin'ya out of his brooding. He winced, blinking as his migraine throbbed with a fury behind his pale gold eyes. Annoyance flared bitterly in his chest and sent his skin crawling.

"Please -" Shin'ya snapped, voice choked and quiet. He rubbed at his temple, "Just - _Please?_ "

His fingers shook.

"Is he okay?" Kouichi asked, concern softening his too-young voice.

 _Fuck no - Shit - Shit -_ The panicky thoughts pinged off the sides of Shin'ya's skull. He grit his teeth and hugged his knees closer to his chest, shooting a pointed glare at the massive woman in the next too-small cell.

Mamoru towered over him even sitting. She stuck out like a sore thumb with her rosy pink complexion and bright, flowery tattoos that wound down the length of her toned arms. She gently laid down her chains with a surprisingly soft look for a woman with tusks - short and jutting out and up from her lower lip.

Shin'ya bristled at the look but took a slow, steadying breath.

"Fine… Just a headache," he lied.

"Oh," Kouichi said, but the boy's brows furrowed at Shin'ya, disbelieving.

 _Drop it. Just drop it._ Shin'ya thought, thumb tapping a nervous rhythm on his knee.

The boy's attention mercifully returned to Mamoru.

"No offense," he said, giving Mamoru an impressed once-over, "but you look like you could arm wrestle All Might in his prime and give him a run for his money."

Mamoru snorted a laugh and pressed her hand to her heart, "Well, aren't you sweet! I like you, kiddo."

Her cheer echoed hollow in the dreary morgue and faded.

She was pretending. Just like they all were. As if things were _fine._

 _Tap… Tap… Tap…_

Something brushed against Shin'ya's leg, green and coiling.

He scrambled away with a yelp.

More groping ivy slithered and spiraled up from the slits in the left wall. Thin roots spread along the lines of grout. Dark green leaves unfurled and a branch inched closer to Shin'ya's leg.

"Ah! No!" Shin'ya yelled, frantically kicking at the spreading foliage, "Sh-Shit! He's doing it again! Yamadori! Wake up!"

The old woman in the first cell stirred from her sleep and stiffly pushed herself up. She winced as her chain shifted and fell, twisting the shackle on her thin wrist.

The ivy surged, winding up the glass walls.

" _Yamadori!_ Get him to stop!" Shin'ya demanded, voice high and strained. Panicking, he pointed past the growing green tendrils to the man in the cell between them.

Kou leaned against the back wall of his cell, slumped as if he'd been tossed and left there. His face was tilted up, brown eyes staring at the light above him. Unblinking. Vacant.

Broad leafed vines grew from his green tinged skin, and moss carpeted the floor around him where soil was dumped in haphazard piles. A heavy pot full of the dark soil sat at Kou's side. His wrist had been chained to its edge, hand forcibly pressed against its center. Pale, hair-thin roots spiderwebbed from his fingers and into the rich dirt.

Yamadori carefully knelt beside the glass, as close to Kou as she could manage, and rapped against it gently, "Kou dear. Can you hear me? I know it's hard, but you need to wake on up."

Kou shivered. His fingers twitched and curled into trembling fists. His eyes rolled back, squeezing shut.

Kouichi leaned around Mamoru, brows pinching, "What's… What's wrong with him? I thought he was sleeping."

"It's alright," Mamoru lied, then amended with a wince, "He's just … having an episode. He'll wake up. Just give him some time."

 _It's not alright. It's_ **not** _alright! Nothing about this is alright!_

"I can't - I can't _do_ this -" Shin'ya whimpered, cradling his head in his arms and covering his ears.

"Shin'ya," Mamoru turned her motherly attention to him, sliding closer to the wall between them, "You are going to wear yourself out if you keep using your quirk. Just -"

"No! No, I _can't_ \- I just - I want _out!_ " Shin'ya shook his head and curled into himself.

"Shin'ya, we have to -!"

The morgue tilted sharply and silenced Mamoru's warnings. Silenced everything but Shin'ya's own gasping.

He breathed. In and out.

Slower.

In and out, until the ringing in his ears faded to silence too. He opened his eyes, shivering at the change in perspective.

He stood outside his cell, floating lighter than air in a slowly tilting, rotating world. He rubbed his numb wrists, free of shackles, and finally breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

 _Okay…_ His thoughts reverberated around him, half-sound half-ripple. Faint, watery lights danced at the edge of his vision, warping the sharp lines of the walls, the tables, the tile.

 _Okay._

Shin'ya's footsteps didn't make a sound as he walked across the room to the door - the only way out. Without sparing so much as a glance at his unconscious body or the others in their cells, he slipped through the keyhole in the deadbolt and into the long, branching hall.

The world creaked like an old ship and slowly turned on its axis. Tile lines and doors doubled and overlapped until they slowed and settled.

Shin'ya looked left and right.

 _Down_ , he decided.

The hall was long and uniform. Some kind of big building. Someplace with a morgue. There were no windows... The only light flickered from the clinical white light fixtures stretching in a line down the hall. Maybe they were underground. It felt cold enough to be, at least when Shin'ya was conscious.

Going door by door, Shin'ya slipped through keyholes and cracks. Many of the rooms were nearly empty save the dust-covered metal tables and old, stored equipment. He'd seen most of them before in his earlier walks. It was hard... keeping track of where he'd been.

Shin'ya slipped out of a broom closet, adding to his mental map even as his dreaming body grew heavy.

Exhausted. Sooner than usual.

He felt the tug of his real body calling him back. Back into that cell.

 _Just one more. Just a little more time._ He pressed further, forcing through another door, _There has to be… a way out._

Shin'ya stumbled soundlessly as the world groaned and slowly righted itself.

 _Wh… What?_ He froze, staring at the glass cages in the room. _When did I … turn around?_

His gaze drifted to the middle cell, where his unconscious body -

A gray-haired woman lay on a small cot in his place.

This wasn't the right room.

The world _heaved._

Shin'ya dug in his heels against the pull of his body.

He gaped.

The other cells! There were more -!

Shin'ya jerked upright, gasping at the sudden rush of touch and sound and cold. He clutched his head in shaking hands.

 _Holy shit! Holy shit!_

"There you are," Mamoru sighed, "Are you alright? You were gone for -"

Shin'ya shook his head rapidly, jabbing his finger toward the door.

"There's -!" he choked and coughed, body shaking with fatigue.

"Cool yer jets," came Kou's gruff voice. He sat hunched in his cell, fists full of withering, torn ivy and roots, "Did you find a way out yet or not?"

"No -!"

"Then _what?_ " Kou demanded, scrubbing his hand down his face.

Shin'ya grasped onto the demand, anchored himself with it.

"Down the hall, I saw -" Shin'ya ran his fingers through his hair. Something - something too soon to call _hope_ \- stirred in his chest, "There are more people trapped here with us.

"We aren't alone."

* * *

Toshinori signed and dated the final form with a flourish and set it on top of the stack. He stretched his arms overhead, arching his back and grunting as his spine popped.

"Done!" he called.

 _Finally._

Naomasa jerked, face slipping from his hand, and blinked sleep from his eyes. Sitting up from the break room couch with a soft grunt, he yawned and stretching his arms. He rocked to his feet and sidled up beside Toshinori.

"About time. You're slower than before. How'd that happen?" he teased, amicably elbowing Toshinori's shoulder.

"Hey now!" Toshinori snorted, ears flicking, "In my defense, I haven't had to fill out anything like this in a while. Those new quirk forms were no walk in the park, and I don't exactly have one quirk to take into account these days."

Naomasa cracked a smile and flipped through the stack.

Toshinori held his breath as Naomasa reviewed each form. Pro-Hero history, retirement date and circumstances, reasons for coming out of retirement, medical history, police-hero partnership policies and privacy forms, seven copies of quirk registry forms…

Naomasa lifted and tapped the stack against the desk, smiling, "Looks like everything is in order." He grinned and stifled a laugh as Toshinori's tail thumped against the floor.

"And?" Toshinori asked, a smile growing on his face and hackles standing on end.

"I'll have to get these on Tsuragamae's desk right away," Naomasa continued, a teasing light in his eye as he paused.

Toshinori playfully thumped Naomasa with his tail.

"Alright! Alright," Naomasa stifled a cough and retrieved his briefcase from the couch. He returned, tucked the signed forms into a pocket, and took out a bright red folder.

"Is that it?" Toshinori asked, tail swinging - nearly knocking over the other chairs.

"This is it," Naomasa confirmed. From the folder, he pulled a slip of paper and a familiar card and handed them to Toshinori, "With this, you can join the investigation in an official capacity."

Toshinori ran his thumb across the face of the updated card.

He bowed his head, breathing a shaky sigh of relief as the knot of anxious tension unraveled in his chest. He smiled and slipped his tail around Naomasa, squeezing gently, "Thank you."

Naomasa huffed a soft laugh and pat Toshinori's shoulder.

"Welcome back, All Might."

* * *

 **Note:** See Aoi's Doctor Theory on her blog.

Hiroshi is the name we gave to the Tsubasa kid.

Hiroshi (広 - wide, broad, spacious)  
A parent's hope that his wings would grow from the itty bitty wings he had as a little kid -  
stemming from a headcanon that he probably had small growths as a baby.

* * *

 **Thank you for sticking with us on this journey! I hope you continue to enjoy the ride with Contained!**

 **Please leave us your thoughts and comments - Aoi and I love hearing from you. Also check out our sideblog, Toshinoumu on Tumblr for extra content, fan art, posts from us, and all kinds of extras! :3**


	2. Making Strides

I do not own BNHA or its characters.

Enjoy Chapter 2 of "Contained"

Co-written with Aoimikans

* * *

 **Making Strides**

Freezing rain fell in a soothing hush outside Naomasa's bedroom window. Tiny grains of ice tapped and melted against the sill as raindrops raced down the windowpane. Wind whistled distantly, sending the phone lines along the street swaying. Their silhouettes cast ghostly shadows in the hazy dark of early morning.

Rubbing his aching eyes, Naomasa sighed and reread Gran Torino's report.

Hatoko Hakuou, the feathered boy who first reported the incident at Dagobah Beach, finally opened up to his assigned counselor about his experiences. He had been homeless for months after running away from an abusive household. Atsuhiro Sako, a.k.a. Mr. Compress, had provided him clothes and entertainment in exchange for Hatoko's rooftop photos and 'spying' skills. The young boy had only one run-in with other members of the Villain Alliance prior to the beach attack. He'd identified Shigaraki, Kurogiri, and Twice, as well as the three-armed noumu found dead in one of the secret rooms under Espa Clinic.

The most valuable information Hatoko provided was the location of Sako's apartment. Gran Torino reported that the apartment had been rigged with small explosives. His raiding team expected nothing less of the villain magician and took the proper precautions.

After evacuating the residents of the building, the bomb squad defused and collected each trap. Most were black market items, and a few were homemade devices. Both would be _difficult_ if not impossible to trace.

Other than the traps, there was little else in the residence. Dust and the cheap furnishings that came with the apartment were all Sako left behind. Nothing that might give them some hint about his habits or the current location of the Villain Alliance. They had to keep looking.

Naomasa squinted at the too bright screen and rubbed under his eyes, feeling the start of a headache throbbing between his temples.

"Think I'm going to call it," he grumbled. Closing his tabs, he shut his laptop with a soft snap and set it on the nightstand. He reached to turn off the lamp -

 _Thump._

Naomasa paused and glanced at his bedroom door. Just above the quiet hush of wind and rain was the steady creak of slow, padding footsteps.

 _Toshinori?_ Naomasa sat up, brows furrowing. _Is he still up?_

Toshinori had retired to the guest bedroom hours before, almost asleep on his feet after a long evening of filling out the paperwork to reinstate his hero license. By the time it had been filed and dropped onto Chief Tsuragamae's desk, it was too late to bother returning to U.A. and Naomasa's place was closer.

So, why was he up now?

Pushing off his comforter with a grunt, Naomasa slid out of bed and wobbled out into the hall. His fingertips traced along the wall, only the faint glow of his bedroom lamp guiding him as he padded down to the guest room. When his fingers brushed against the doorjamb, he stopped and listened again.

Inside, the wooden floor creaked under slow, dragging footsteps.

 _What is he…?_

Naomasa's heart sunk. _Oh._

"Right." He sighed and bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, "He lapses at night."

The footsteps continued. Claws clicked and scraped, back and forth inside the room.

 _He's going to exhaust himself,_ Naomasa realized.

His knuckles brushed the wood as he raised his hand to knock. And stopped, hovering an inch away.

Were the night lapses anything like the lapse at the station? The way Toshinori had reacted to Midoriya's command… The way Toshinori looked at Naomasa as if he hadn't known him for years - as if he didn't know him at all. Was he the same at night?

 _Doesn't matter._ Naomasa shook himself, _He's still Toshinori._

A small, determined frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, and Naomasa knocked.

"Toshinori?" he called, "I'm coming in."

Only rain answered him.

"Alright," he breathed a nervous sigh and opened the door.

The distant glow of Naomasa's bedside lamp filtered into the guest room in a wide wedge. Shadows stretched across the floor and contorted over the desk, the empty bed, the blankets strewn across the floor… and Toshinori, slouched against the wall.

Toshinori sat, curled over his knees. Hugging his arms to his chest, he shivered in his undershirt and boxers. His gaze wandered around the room, unseeing. He blinked in the soft glow, his eyes twin pinpricks of hazy blue.

"Toshi-"

Toshinori raised and pressed a trembling hand to his forehead. Brows pinched and mouth drawn in a strained line, he finally looked at Naomasa.

"Hey," Naomasa whispered urgently, stepping into the room, "Are you -?"

Toshinori's gaze unfocused and slipped away.

No recognition.

No reaction.

Dread clenched sickeningly in Naomasa's stomach.

Uncurling, Toshinori rose onto wobbling arms and legs and paced.

" _Shit,_ " Naomasa winced as Toshinori walked a slow line across the room, tail dragging behind him and claws clicking with every step.

It was that place. It followed Toshinori, even here. That damn storage room at Rishi - Chains, clawed drywall, and bloodied, cracked tiles.

Guilt surged like bile at the back of Naomasa's throat. _If I'd just driven you back…_

"Damn it, I'm here _now._ " He snapped, voice choked and muffled in the suffocating dark.

Treading quietly across the room, Naomasa knelt in front of Toshinori.

"Toshinori…" Naomasa rubbed his forehead, frowning. _No commands. Even if they don't work coming from me, no commands._

"We have a long day tomorrow. You really need your sleep," he urged carefully and sighed when Toshinori brushed passed him. "Can you hear me at all?"

Toshinori paced to the end of the room, turned, and paced back. Head still bowed and shoulders tense. He bared his teeth in a grimace, and his tail twitched uneasily.

He looked… lost.

" _Toshinori,_ " Naomasa reached out, fingertips brushing against Toshinori's shoulder. He leaned forward and gently steered Toshinori to face him.

Toshinori flinched. A strained, wavering noise caught in his throat, and his hackles bristled. Unfocused eyes swept across the room, passing over Naomasa as if he weren't _right there._

Searching. Vulnerable.

Afraid.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I'm right here," Naomasa gently pulled Toshinori close, "It's me… You're safe. You're at my place."

 _Breathe with me. You're okay._

Braced against Naomasa's chest, Toshinori let out a shuddering sigh. Tension slowly bled from his shoulders. His tail settled, and his hackles relaxed.

"That's it," Naomasa breathed as Toshinori sank back on his haunches, "You're alright. You're - Oh."

Toshinori slumped against Naomasa, breathing slow and even. His tail swept across the floor and wound around Naomasa's waist, squeezing firmly.

"Ah - That's a bit -" Naomasa grunted and pat the tail, nudging it loose with a huff of relief. He gently pat Toshinori's tail again, "Yeah... You know me. You're alright."

Wind swept past the window, blowing through sheer curtains of rain. Toshinori murmured quietly in his lapse, shifting closer and more comfortably on his haunches.

Naomasa shook his head with a soft laugh, a slow ache building in his lower back the longer Toshinori clung to him, "What am I going to do with you?"

The rain nearly lulled Naomasa into dozing before a shudder ran through Toshinori.

"Nao..masa?" He croaked and slowly pulled away.

Naomasa let him, resting his hands on Toshinori's shoulders. _There you are._

Brows pinched, Toshinori squinted and massaged his forehead, "Shit… What time is it?"

Naomasa smiled softly and tapped his ear, "It's about 2AM."

"Huh," Toshinori grunted. He ran his hand down his face and let it fall into his lap. Taking a deep breath, he looked around the room, ears twitching.

"I'm on the floor," he observed, voice hoarse with sleep.

Naomasa snorted and pat Toshinori's arm, "Yeah. You are. Need help up?"

Toshinori shook his head slowly, tail shifting around Naomasa's waist. He stilled as his eyes clouded.

"Hey. Are you alright?" Naomasa asked, giving his arm a small squeeze.

Toshinori blinked with a jolt, his focus returning, "I'm - Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I -? Oh…" He grimaced uncomfortably, "I lapsed in my sleep again. Shit." Ears drooping, he shot Naomasa an apologetic look, "I didn't wake you, did I?"

Naomasa rubbed the back of his neck, smiling lopsidedly, "Ah, no. I was up."

"That's good. I… Up?" Toshinori straightened, brows raised, "Hey now! You're not overworking again, are you?"

"What?" Naomasa snorted and laughed. The sound filled the room and earned Naomasa a few happy wiggles of Toshinori's tail around his middle. Naomasa shook his head, chuckling to himself, "You're one to talk!"

"Hush," Toshinori huffed with a grin, pulling Naomasa to his feet, "You should have been asleep hours ago."

 _Still the same as ever,_ Naomasa thought as Toshinori ushered him back to his own room, nagging him all the way.

Toshinori clicked his tongue, "Can't start my first day on the job with you dead on your feet."

"Going to tuck me in?" Naomasa teased, sitting on the edge of his bed.

The hackles down Toshinori's neck fluffed up, and he stifled a cough, turning off the lamp. A warm, heavy weight _thumped_ against Naomasa's chest, knocking him against his pillows.

Toshinori pulled his tail away and padded to the door, a smile in his voice as he called back, "Good _night,_ Naomasa."

"Get some rest, Toshi," Naomasa answered, coughing lightly, and rubbed at his chest.

Toshinori grunted in reply from the hall, and the guest room door shut with a soft clack.

Chuckling, Naomasa leaned back into his pillows.

He wasn't sure when it happened, but the alarm and anxiety of seeing Toshinori's night lapse had disappeared. It was a marvel how easily Toshinori managed to wash those worries away - even without meaning to.

Naomasa's hand rested on his chest, fingertips brushing over the pleasant ache that had nothing to do with Toshinori's tail.

It was warm… and incredibly fond.

Jean-Baptiste Bellamy's knowing look and chuckle floated to the forefront of Naomasa's thoughts again: _"I don't need to be an Empath to know that look."_

 _Oh no..._ Naomasa groaned and covered his ecstatically distraught grin.

* * *

After a large breakfast of eggs and rice - courtesy of Toshinori's own home cooking - and some friendly banter, he and Naomasa returned to the police precinct.

"First day back," Naomasa chimed, holding the door open for Toshinori, "How are you feeling?"

Toshinori grinned and ducked inside, shivering as the musty, dry warmth of the building rushed over him, "Excited."

His tail swayed pleasantly as he followed Naomasa down the hall, a familiar energy prickling up his spine. He reached into his freshly washed suit jacket pocket, and his claws brushed over his wallet and updated license, "Just happy I can help. Sitting around is _not_ one of my strengths."

"Ha! That's true. Looks like I'll be depending on you again, _All Might,_ " Naomasa smiled as he entered the conference room. Taking off his hat and coat, he hung them on the rack and greeted someone in the room, "Good morning."

"Power Loader!" Toshinori grinned, closing the door behind him, "I'm surprised to see you here. Did the police contract you for the abduction case?"

Higari Maijima snickered and held up a large metal briefcase, "No. I'm here for you actually."

"For me?" Toshinori asked, ears and tail perked.

The metal briefcase was familiar. Silver and thick, it resembled the cases his students used to store their…

Toshinori stared in disbelief, "Is that what I think it is?"

Maijima grinned wide.

"I've been working on this since you resumed teaching," he said, stepping back as Toshinori approached the case, "Most of U.A.'s pro-hero faculty wear their suits while teaching. Especially during practical training. It was only right for you to have one."

Toshinori only half-heard him. He ran his palms over the case. Where the students' cases had numbers on the sides, this one bore his All Might _AM_ emblem.

"When I heard you were getting approved to work with police as a reinstated pro-hero," Maijima continued, "Well, I had production fast-tracked."

Toshinori slipped his claws under the latches, flicked them up, and opened the case. A grin split his face.

"It's a more subtle design," Maijima said, leaning around to peek into the case, "but we in the support department tried to stay true to your usual flare. Even used Patented Shield technology to maintain the integrity and durability of the fabric."

Toshinori's ears perked and tail wagged at the familiar surname. He pulled the dark blue, full body suit from the case and held it up. The sleek material was tough and padded on the inside. Broad, white lines cut up the sides of the legs and torso. Twin lines ran down the sleeves, joining in a point over the wrists.

Toshinori's grin widened, brushing his clawed thumb over the diamond design at the center of the chest. It was a wonderful homage to his Golden Age suit.

A flash of golden yellow caught his eye, and he flipped the suit around. Framed by the curved white bands across the shoulder blades and hips was a swath of golden yellow. It swept from his back and down the top of the tail sleeve.

Brows furrowing curiously, Toshinori ran his claws down the center of the back.

"Is there something here to accommodate my spikes?" he asked.

Maijima's iron fingertips clicked together in delight as he took the suit and laid it out on the table. He traced the center of the back, "Feel along here."

Toshinori did, running his knuckles along the material. It was rougher than the rest of the suit, "What is it?"

"Hatsume Mei was working on a permeable, memory mesh for young Miss Yaoyorozu," Maijima explained. He took Toshinori's hand and plucked off a claw cap. Guiding his claw inside the suit, he pressed it through the material and back out. The hole in the material slipped seamlessly closed.

 _Interesting,_ Toshinori experimentally pressed his claw against the strip from the outside.

It didn't slip through.

"One way permeation?" Toshinori asked, smiling.

"Exactly that!" Maijima confirmed with an enthusiastic snap of his fingers.

Toshinori returned to the case and chuckled as he pulled out the utility belt. He ran his hand over the bold red belt buckle, tracing along the golden V on its face - a simpler version of his classic buckle.

Maijima reached past him and pulled out dark gray knee guards and a pair of smaller guards, "These are for your hocks. They're similar to the Rabbit Hero Miruko's footwear - sturdy, but flexible."

He set the guards aside and pointed to a pair of single-lens shades.

"A reflective eye-shield to protect both your eyes and your identity," he explained. The lens reflected gold in the office light.

"And these?" Toshinori asked, picking up the last few items. He smiled at the familiar shapes.

"I took the liberty to upgrade your running gloves. Reinforced the knuckles and increased the pads' grip strength," Maijima said. Then he snickered, pointing to the similar pair, "I happened to mention the issues you have with footwear to my student. _Give his feet gloves_ , she said. How remarkably simple."

Toshinori barked a laugh, turning over the footwear in his hands. They resembled his gloves in all but shape. Reinforced material covered the toes, and each ended in holes for his claws.

"Your student could tackle the Gordian knot with no problem, I have no doubt," he said, shaking his head, "The innovation of these young ones…"

Maijima proudly puffed out his chest, "They are _something,_ if not trouble."

"Trouble and greatness seem to come hand in hand," Toshinori murmured knowingly, his own trouble-fraught successor coming to mind. He pat the blue-gray vest, "A tactical vest?"

"Some added protection on patrol and -" Maijima laid the vest over the suit's chest - "To disguise the more recognizable flare until you go public. Low profile."

Naomasa snorted, leaning against the wall of the conference room, "Unless he speaks, you mean."

"Hey now!" Toshinori spluttered, hackles fluffing indignantly, "I can be low profile!"

Naomasa's brows rose, and he laughed, "Until we have a raid or rescue operation -" He straightened his shoulders, jutting out his chest, " _It's alright! I am here!_ "

Toshinori stiffened, "Hey, hey -"

Maijima snickered, "Yes, sadly the Support Department can't help with that."

Ears burning, Toshinori looked back and forth between the two, "Teasing an old man. You should be ashamed."

Naomasa nudged him playfully, "Quit. You're not _that_ old."

Smiling, Maijima folded the suit back into the case and handed it to Toshinori.

"Suit up, please. I'd like to check the fine tuning."

* * *

Toshinori zipped up the front of his new hero suit and clipped the belt around his waist, adjusting the red utility pouches on either side. Closing his eyes, he stretched and felt out the material. It was cool against his skin, but warmed quickly. Soft but secure in its weight and density. The fabric twisted smoothly along with his movements - no straining or catching. Barely a whisper of a noise.

Swinging his tail in slow, wide arcs, Toshinori tested the tail sleeve. The sleeve length covered a third of his tail and comfortably adjusted to his movements.

Satisfied, Toshinori flexed his fingers.

The gray gloves were quite the upgrade. The knuckles were armored, and the palms and fingers were padded underneath. The pads were different than his previous pair. Rather than solid masses, they were made of tightly packed slips of rubbery-velvet material. Matching pads covered the soles of his footwear.

Bouncing lightly on his toes, Toshinori grinned at how sturdy yet not obstructive the shoes felt. Flexible, but supportive; they had plenty of room for the partial webbing between his toes. His claws stuck out of holes in the front of each toe, including his dewclaws on the inside of each foot.

Going to the large mirror, Toshinori gave himself a full once-over. A slow grin lit his face as he twisted back and forth, and a burning sense of purpose swelled in his chest.

The pro-hero suit fit this body.

Fit _his_ body.

Fit him.

"Ha! Imagine that," Toshinori laughed breathlessly and traced around the golden yellow diamond at the center of his chest, "What age comes after golden? I wonder…"

The precinct locker room door squeaked, and Toshinori perked his ears as it opened.

"There you are! Admiring the Support Department's work?" Maijima snickered as he walked up to Toshinori, inspecting the suit.

Naomasa followed after him, grinning lopsidedly, "What do you know! It fits."

Toshinori chuckled, looking down at himself and spread out his arms, "It does. Your department did wonderful work. It feels incredible."

Maijima stifled a laugh, and Naomasa snorted.

"We can tell," Naomasa said, pressing his hand to Toshinori's chest, "You're purring again."

Toshinori coughed in surprise, and his ears flicked. He felt his chest and, sure enough, it vibrated along with his breathing.

"I -" He cleared his throat and bashfully swallowed the noise, "I didn't realize."

Tilting his head curiously, Maijima turned Toshinori by his hips and examined his back, "Why haven't you pushed your Ridged Mane through? The memory mesh runs all the way down your tail, you know."

"Push it through?" Toshinori asked, twisting as Maijima pinched and pulled at the fabric.

"You can change the rigidity of your hair," the inventor elaborated with stiffly splayed fingers, "I assumed it was more comfortable having it out rather than pressed under your clothes."

"That's true," Toshinori paused, shifting as the mane line rubbed against his skin, "I'll admit I've never purposely tried to."

The only times he'd felt the change was halfway into a lapse.

Toshinori pursed his lips. How _had_ it felt? It was… a tense prickling down his spine -

"Ah-ha!" Maijima crowed in delight and ran an iron fingertip along the rigid line of hair. It screeched quietly, like scrubbing rust with a wire-bristle brush, " _Natural born hero_ indeed. Nothing you can't master. Fantastic, the mesh didn't tear..." he murmured, examining the fabric.

Toshinori and Naomasa shared a sideways look, and Toshinori chuckled. Breathing slowly out, he let the mane relax.

"So," Naomasa leaned against a locker and tapped his ear, "You think the suit is ready for the field, Power Loader?"

There was a barely there teasing lilt to Naomasa's voice.

Toshinori glanced back at him, giddy suspicion fluttering at the base of his ribs.

"I'd say so," Maijima replied, handing Toshinori the bulletproof vest, "Just remember to wear this before you head out."

Toshinori stared down at the vest, then back up to Naomasa.

Naomasa rocked up and away from the locker, "Great. I guess that means you're partnering up with me today."

Toshinori gaped and pulled at his suit, "You knew about this?"

"I might have heard something about it," Naomasa admitted with an amicable shrug. At Toshinori's dumbfounded look, Naomasa smiled, "You didn't think we'd coop you up in the office all day, did you? You'd be stuck with paperwork here. And personally, I'd like to find the abductees this decade."

Toshinori winced, grinning sheepishly, "Fair point."

He shook his head and stood taller, "Where are we starting?"

"First, team meeting -" Naomasa pointed his thumb back toward the conference room - "Then, we'll be paying a visit to Dr. Tsubasa's old office."

* * *

 _Sainte Marie, Mère de Dieu, priez pour nous pauvres pécheurs, maintenant et à l'heure de notre mort. Amen._

Jean-Baptiste Bellamy thumbed his rosary in his pocket, looking over the list of missing persons who were not yet confirmed victims of the _Good Doctor_ \- Dr. Tsubasa.

Nine were as good as confirmed with the evidence left behind. Namely, the oily Transmission Quirk fluid staining the ground where each were last seen or expected to be. There were a few dozen missing persons reported in the area on the unconfirmed list. Most of them had been missing prior to Toshinori Yagi's rescue at Espa Clinic, where the doctor apparently first showed interest in "making more like" Yagi. Another six were reported post-Espa Clinic. Their cases were being looked into for any trace of the Transmission residue.

Pocketing her cellphone, Mary Shin walked up to the board and took down the picture of a middle-aged woman. She held it up, "Found safe with her lover. Husband came home from a business trip early. I guess she didn't tell him she'd be away for the weekend."

"Oh dear," Jean-Baptiste chuckled softly, "How dramatic."

Mary's amusement rolled off her in waves, brushing like a warm breeze against his skin. It drowned out the mixed, roiling buzz of the precinct's collective mood.

A static jolt fizzled in the air as Vera Lang sat up in her chair, fingers retracing the line on her braille smart bar.

"Find something?" Wright asked, glancing up from his coffee. His curiosity was warm and languid, stirring awake as he sipped from his mug.

Vera hummed, sliding the smart bar across the paper file, "I'm noticing a pattern similar to our opioid case. More supplies were sent to the Espa Clinic through Rishi General Hospital than the clinic has on record. A small amount was reported as damaged in transit but it's likely they were sold for cash to local gangs if not the black market. Whether Espa is the supply line for the Doctor...?" She shrugged and sighed, "Can't be sure yet. It's hard to trace these things when you halt the supply. How are things on your end?"

"The request to release records of Tsubasa's personal assets haven't come back yet, but we have enough to get us started," Wright flipped through a printed transcript of the U.A. students' interview, "Look for any supply records that mention the Children's Evazan Clinic. Even if Tsubasa moved on, he might still have some sway there."

Turning to Officer Tamakawa, Wright asked, "Do we know if samples from the winged noumu were sent to evidence?"

Sansa straightened with a start. A flurry of bashful alarm alighted in Jean-Baptiste's chest, echoing Sansa's own butterflies as he tore his gaze from Alba Tyto.

Sansa cleared his throat and checked his phone, "No update, but the request was approved to pull a sample from the noumu's remains. Shouldn't take long."

The door swung open, and Detective Tsukauchi stepped inside.

"Good morning, Detective," Mary called, and she gasped, "Oh!"

Following behind Detective Tsukauchi, standing tall and radiating confidence, was Toshinori Yagi. The very image of All Might in a new blue, white, and gold suit in the style of his Golden Age costume.

 _The legend himself,_ Jean-Baptiste grinned at the tingling, champagne awe dancing across his skin. Bright sparks zinged through his fingertips as Genji gaped wide-eyed at Yagi, hands flapping ecstatically at stomach level. _Ever the fanboy._

Mary's plants - over a dozen set on every available surface - grew taller and greener. The leaves spilled over their pots and twisted toward the ceiling, all traces of purple replaced with vibrant green.

Yagi grinned as he playfully saluted to the group and called warmly, "I am here! To do what I can to help."

"Welcome!" Vera greeted, rosy cheeked, "You sound well."

"I've had plenty of time to rest!" Yagi laughed, tail swaying contently behind him.

A twitch of a smile broke through Detective Tsukauchi's professional mask, and he crossed to the whiteboard, "Wright, what are your team updates and assignments?"

"Bellamy and Shin are on abduction confirmations," Wright pointed to the two.

Mary nodded to the list of possible abductees, "Ito is accounted for, and no new missing persons have been reported."

Jean-Baptiste thumbed his rosary again, considering the remaining missing persons on the possible abductees list, "Based off officer reports, Shin'ya Misawa may be the tenth abductee. He disappeared more than a few days ago but wasn't reported missing until late last night by an online friend. No residue found at his residence, but his keys, wallet, and a pair of shoes were missing. It may be that he was abducted outside his home."

"And with the recent rain…" Yagi thought aloud.

"There may not be residue left to find," Tsukauchi finished.

"A sudden disappearance outside the home fits the _Good Doctor's_ M.O." Mary tapped on the map beside a pinned building, "And Misawa's apartment is only a couple blocks from where Sunaba was taken. We'll keep you updated if there's more."

Wright pulled a stack of records from one of the many file boxes on the conference table, "Lang, Tsuda, and I are on the supply chain and making a list of suspicious activity. Narrowing down where to request search warrants could help speed up the investigation."

"I may be able to help with that."

Yagi's assured statement dropped like a pebble into still water. The room quieted, curiosity rippling through the air.

He approached the board, claws clicking and ears perked as he considered the map, "When I was captured, my first priority was figuring out where I might be. It had to be a medical facility based on the smell and nurses, fairly close to where I was abducted, and the building clearly had unused but functional space. Somewhere accessible, but not where anyone could accidentally stumble upon it. Rishi General is one of the few hospitals with older buildings that were never updated to accommodate non-standard human bodies and quirks.

"Espa Clinic was the same. A clinic on the ground level, but older structures underneath."

Vera snapped her fingers and pointed in Yagi's direction, "And if we cross reference the supply chain and properties with excess space, we can narrow down the places where abductees could be kept."

"Property layouts are public record," Alba clicked her beak thoughtfully, "Should be easy enough to obtain."

Tsukauchi pointed between Tamakawa and Alba, "I'll leave public records to you two."

"Yes, sir," Tamakawa saluted.

"The sooner we find them, the better," Yagi said, rubbing his chin as he examined the photos pinned to the whiteboard.

"Do you think the Doctor will alter them as fast as All for One altered you?"

Yagi stiffened for a fraction of a second, barely a pause, but a glassy chill echoed through the room. Goosebumps shivered across Jean-Baptiste's skin, and a sickening sense of vertigo yanked at his stomach. Something heavy, suffocating, and deafening - like a thick blanket of snow - thrummed around Yagi.

Clutching his rosary, Jean-Baptiste leaned carefully against the conference table, _What in the world -?_

When Yagi turned to Wright, he smiled thinly and shrugged.

"Hard to know for sure, but I think it's safe to assume the _Good Doctor_ will take his time," he said, carefully neutral. Resting his hands on his utility belt, he furrowed his brow in thought, "In my case, All for One wanted to create a mindless weapon. So, he kept me disoriented and under strain while developing new, heteromorphic quirks. After twenty-two days, I escaped with seven new quirks in total -" Pausing, Yagi counted on his clawed fingers and nodded - "Two or three quirks a week if you average it out."

Jean-Baptiste stared at Yagi as the suffocating sensation slowly faded to a background buzz. It was… familiar. He felt it when Yagi was first brought in from Espa Clinic, and it drove him into the quiet corners of the precinct to recenter.

Yagi continued, seemingly unfazed by the strange haze coming from him, "All for One's plan failed, despite his efforts." He gestured to himself, "Based on what I remember from Espa, the Doctor implied interest in recreating the results All for One got: a cognitively intact ... multi-quirk individual. We also have to take into account that he is experimenting on at least nine people. _If_ he isn't reckless, he'll work slow enough to keep the physical and mental health of each abductee manageable. Not everyone reacts to additional quirks well."

Alba's head tilted, large dark eyes glinting curiously, "How do you know that?"

Yagi and Tsukauchi shared a glance, and Jean-Baptiste felt the elastic snap of knowing.

Tsukauchi scratched at his ear, "In the past, All for One made many allies by giving them booster type quirks to compliment their existing abilities. Boosting strength, boosting endurance, enhancing emitter-type quirks. All to build a stronger, more loyal following."

Jean-Baptiste's brows rose, and shock rippled across the room in waves.

Yagi hummed darkly, "Most of his followers are in prison. I made certain of that during my career. But there were those that didn't take well to the additional quirk. They were very similar to the noumu used by the League of Villains, mentally strained and unresponsive. Usually abandoned."

"So, even if we find them quickly, there is still a chance we'll be too late..." Alba whispered.

Lips pursed in a grim line, Mary asked, "Is it possible the Doctor hasn't started yet? They could still -"

"That isn't likely," Yagi shook his head and gave Mary a soft smile, "I think it's safe to assume that they each have one added quirk by now. Possibly two for the first few abductees."

The strange, sluggish weight stirred around Yagi, and Jean-Baptiste finally spoke up. Tapping his own temple, he asked, "Is that the strain? That hazy feeling at the back of your head? It's coming in waves."

Yagi's brows rose, his gaze fixing on Jean-Baptiste. His ears twitched low, and shame sunk like a stone, echoing in Jean-Baptiste's gut.

"Oh. _Empath_ is your quirk." Yagi ruffled his hair, "Yes, there's a kind of mental fog. It's manageable, for the most part. I'm sorry you have to feel that … too." Straightening, Yagi's hackles bristled up his back.

"All Might?" Tsukauchi cautioned, brows pinched.

"If you feel something once, do you think you could identify a similar feeling if you run into it again?" Yagi asked, blue eyes piercing.

"I recognize emotions and moods I've felt before, yes." Jean-Baptiste confirmed. A slow smile lit his face, mirroring the growing grin on Yagi's.

"And how's your quirk range?"

"Wide enough for most buildings."

Yagi twisted, "Tsukauchi, how many officers are patrolling around medical centers?"

Tsukauchi checked his pocket notebook, "Six total patrol officers and the two of us today."

"Add Bellamy to that list -" Yagi turned back to Wright - "If he can remember the feeling of the fog -"

"He will know if the abductees are in the building," Wright finished, a determined glint in his eye, "Clever."

* * *

Taeka groaned, focus hazy. Shifting in and out.

The floor was like ice beneath her. The chill sunk through her clothes and fur. She stirred and slowly pushed herself up on trembling arms, wincing at the heavy ache in her back.

"A-ah… Ow." Taeka croaked, blinking the bright, dizzying dots of lights from her eyes.

 _Fuck._

Her _wings_ gave a weak, irritable flap, scattering down feathers across her cell. They'd already doubled in size in, according to Souma, only a day. As the down fluttered to the floor, more golden brown adult feathers took their place. Growing steadily fuller and longer.

Releasing a shuddering pant, Taeka stood and carefully tucked the wings against her back. Hot and cold prickling raced through the new limbs. She squeezed her eyes shut at the sensation and grit her teeth.

"Are you feeling better, dear?"

Taeka stiffened, relaxing only when she recognized Nozomi's voice. She turned to the older woman and shrugged half-heartedly, "I - _Hrk!_ "

Taeka's stomach _roiled_. Nausea pressed thickly at her throat. She gagged and rushed to the other side of her cell. Grabbing the bucket by her cot, she doubled over and retched into it until there was only bile left.

Body aching, Taeka coughed and wiped her mouth, "Sorry…"

Nozomi pressed her hand against the glass between them, "You have nothing to be sorry about. You should drink some water, Taeka. Morning sickness is no laughing matter."

"Not laughing," Taeka shuddered. A wave of heaviness settled over her limbs.

 _Tired…_

She bent, resting her forehead against the cool wall…

The lock to her cell closed with a _clack!_

Taeka jolted and looked up from the floor, gasping softly as the world spun.

"Oh, good. Still responsive. You had me worried," a familiar voice intoned.

Taeka whirled, claws out, and bared her teeth. Gaze fixed on the Doctor, she snarled, "Fuck off!"

Standing outside her cell, the Doctor chuckled and and tipped a dustpan into the biohazard bin. A few down feathers fluttered to the floor in a ring outside the bin.

She watched them fall.

 _Wait -_

Taeka blinked as the world righted itself again and looked around her cell, confusion clenching in her chest.

Her cell was clean. The feathers were gone. A fresh bucket was placed by her cot.

 _When did he -?_

"You were so docile a moment ago. I'm almost disappointed," The Doctor laughed, "But this is promising." He pointed to the bottles of water and sports drinks in the front corner of her cell, "Drink. You're dehydrated."

Taeka shuddered with a grimace. An odd pressure grew behind her eyes.

Shaking her head, she snapped, "As if you care! You did this!"

The Doctor shrugged, indifferent, "Believe what you like, but don't make me come back with an IV. I'm only looking after your best interests."

With that he turned and unlocked Souma's cell. He placed a paper bag on the floor before locking it again, "Out of the tub today? Good. I've brought you a change of clothes. Change into them now. I'd don't want you catching pneumonia, even with your newfound temperature control," he tutted, muttering to himself, "Another scorching fever might do long term damage. We can't have that tainting my results."

Steam hissed from Souma's freckled bronze scales as he flipped the Doctor off, signing something else that made Mirai snort. Judging by his sharp gestures and the Doctor's frown, it was something insulting. Good.

Taeka allowed herself a twitch of a smile and carefully leaned against the glass. Her wings drooped larger and heavier than before. Aching. Overwhelming.

She rubbed at the small curve of her belly and fought against the heaviness in her limbs.

 _They're all still fighting…_

She sighed, eyelids drooping. Her wings wrapped over her shoulders.

"Taeka?" Nozomi whispered, voice distant.

"Now, let's see," the Doctor tsked and rummaged through the small fridge. Glass vials _clinked_ softly against each other, like little bells.

"Taeka, are you alright?" Nozomi whispered urgently.

 _Working on it. Hold on,_ Taeka thought, drowsy. The wings were so heavy.

"Chris Kougami," the Doctor held up and tapped on a red-filled syringe. He turned and pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, "Why don't we get you started?"

"-ka… _Taeka!"_

Taeka jerked awake, claws flexing.

Outside their cells, the morgue was empty. The Doctor was gone.

Mirai's voice cut through her hazy thoughts, "Taeka, look!"

Head throbbing, Taeka grit her teeth and dug her claws into the tile floor, tail slashing irritably, "Just - give me a moment -"

She shook herself, feathers bristling. Nausea lurched in her gut, and she swallowed roughly. The dizzying, cottony weight pressed behind her eyes, only receding after she took slow, deep breaths.

"Okay…" Taeka settled back on her haunches, "Okay, what is it?"

 _Shhhhhff…_

"That."

Across the room, something slid under the door. It swirled against the tile in a winding line, slowly slithering closer.

 _Sand?_ Taeka rose and hesitantly approached the front of her cell.

The stream of sand rose from the floor and prodded at the cell doors, eventually finding the metal flap of the meal slot in her own.

"Woah woah woah," Taeka backed away as the sand rushed through the slot and gathered in a pile by her paws.

The sand spread out and twisted, finally forming letters: _"Taken? Us too."_

"... What?" Taeka hesitantly reached out.

"What is it?" Chris asked, voice quivering. He curled over himself, cradling his arm as he leaned in to look.

"Not sure," Taeka murmured and smeared a line through the last word.

The sand shivered and swirled again, words disappearing. A small rectangle of sand formed in their place. Above the box and connected to it with a cartoonish arrow were the words, _"Write here!"_

"Write here?" Nozomi read as Souma spelled out the words for Mirai.

"Souma says it could be a trick," Mirai called from her cell.

Nozomi shook her head and ran her fingers down her long, gray braid. Bright pink and yellow splotches blossomed across the back of her hands.

"And if it isn't?" she asked, hopeful, "We may not be alone here."

Shivering, Chris curled tighter as his stomach gurgled loudly, "I don't know… Maybe?"

The sand shifted again, " _Hello?_ "

Taeka pursed her lips and wrote back: " _Who are you? How many is 'us?'"_

The sand shivered, forming a crude map with an X, " _5 here. Down the hall. We're trapped._ "

Taeka stared at the little map and the room marked with the X.

"Five more people?" Chris gasped. He shuddered and curled over his abdomen with a wince. Blunt claws brushed over his upper arm, and his voice shook when he asked, "Do you think… they're going through the same thing?"

 _Oh,_ Taeka caught his fearful glance at her aching, growing wings. Realization twisted in her stomach, _He has one now too._

She brushed gently at the sand, and it changed into the same blank slate. She wrote, _"Were you taken by that doctor, too? Changes?"_

There was a long pause. Finally the sand moved again, _"Yes. To both. Injections. Hurts."_

The sand quickly returned to the slate.

Taeka bit her lip, letting out a shaky sigh, _"Us too."_

"How did they know we were here?" Mirai wondered aloud, brows furrowed as she peered over Souma's tub.

Taeka repeated the question.

The sand swirled, _"Shin'ya's quirk. He can look around when he sleeps."_

"Ask if -"

But Taeka was already writing, " _Does he know where we are?_ "

 _"Shin'ya says it looks like a hospi -"_

The sand suddenly swirled in a nonexistent wind and whipped out of Taeka's cell. It swept across the room and under the far counter, flattening into a barely visible line against the shadowed wall.

"H-hey!" Chris called out, lurching for the door of his cell only to crumple and curl in on himself with a startled groan, "What - ow - ... What happened to the sand?"

Taeka shushed him gently, crouching low and still, and watched the door.

Footsteps grew closer. Two pairs, the Doctor's sharp steps and the noumu's heavy, barefoot thumps. Keys jangled sharply, and the deadbolt clicked.

"Are you all feeling rested?" the Doctor asked as he shuffled inside, draping his coat over the back of his chair. The masked noumu lumbered in behind him and sat in its usual corner.

The Doctor turned and looked over each of them, his gaze pausing briefly on Taeka.

Taeka glared right back, tense.

Humming, the Doctor turned to Chris, "Hungry?"

Chris hugged his abdomen, hunching over himself. His stomach gurgled, and he flinched.

"Interesting," the Doctor murmured. His bushy mustache twitched into a grin.

* * *

It was odd and thrilling all at once, Toshinori decided, walking down the crowded sidewalk beside Naomasa. Civilians bundled in their coats and scarves passed by, barely sparing him a glance. The few that did, looked up with mild curiosity and away again.

Just like they had before Kamino.

No one recognized him.

Toshinori brushed a claw against the golden reflective visor covering half his face and found the small button beside his left ear. The visor shrunk into single-lens shades perched on his nose.

"Having fun?" Naomasa asked, discreetly arching a brow Toshinori's way.

Toshinori grinned, tail wagging and nearly knocking over _another_ pedestrian. He waved in apology and chuckled, "Just familiarizing myself. My old suits didn't have so many gadgets."

Naomasa shook his head with a small smile and checked his phone, "Up here."

Children's Evazan Clinic sat nestled between a florist and a small grocery. It was surprisingly plain. The face looked like any other office front, small windows on either side of the glass waiting room door. _Children's Evazan Clinic_ and the clinic's open office hours covered the top half of the door in recently reapplied painted letters.

Bells jangled cheerily above the door as they walked inside. Naomasa approached the woman at the front desk, leaving Toshinori at the entrance.

The smell hit Toshinori like a sledgehammer.

Antiseptic. Cleaning agent. Dust. Sick.

 _Chains. Blood. The taste of latex and bile. Another quirk. All for One -_

"Oji-san?" a tiny voice called.

Ears ringing, Toshinori let out a slow breath and looked down at the child tugging on his pant leg.

"Hana," the girl's mother called, half out of her seat in the small waiting room. She shot Toshinori an apologetic look before beckoning, "Why don't you leave the nice man alone and come color?"

"Are you a hero?" the little girl, Hana, asked instead.

Toshinori waved at her mother with a lopsided smile and crouched in front of the girl.

"Yes, I'm a hero," he said, chuckling as Hana - barely older than a toddler - pulled at his hand and began running her palm against the glove's pads.

"What's your name?"

Toshinori grinned wider, tail thumping against the thinly carpeted floor when Hana's mother huffed a soft, embarrassed laugh, "Yagi."

"Like a goat!?" the girl shrieked, delighted.

"I'm so sorry," Hana's mother rushed over, scooping up her giggly girl, "We're still working on inside voices."

"No, it's alright!" Toshinori laughed and stood, his anxious jitters eased, "She's just fine."

Hana's mother paused, brows raised curiously, "There's… something familiar about you. Have we met?"

"Yagi," Naomasa called from the front desk, nodding toward the woman next to him.

"It was nice to meet you both. Bye-bye, Hana," Toshinori said, grinning only wider as the girl hid in the crook her mother's neck in a bout of playful shyness.

"Just back here, Detective," the middle-aged woman beside Naomasa said, leading them into the clinic proper.

Naomasa held back a moment, sidling up beside Toshinori.

" _It's alright?_ " he scoffed under his breath.

 _Right._ Toshinori smothered a grin, ears flicking, _Under the radar._

The woman held open her office door, bowing politely to Toshinori as he entered, "I'm Dr. Ueda, head physician here at the C.E. Clinic." She gestured to a pair of chairs and rounded her desk, "Make yourselves comfortable. You said this was about a doctor that worked here previously, Detective?"

"I did," Naomasa sat and passed Ueda a photograph, "Dr. Tsubasa. He would have been here around six years ago."

"Yes," Ueda paused, thoughtful. She removed her black-framed glasses and tapped them against the photo, "I worked with him during his last couple years as head physician. You think he's involved in the string of kidnappings." She glanced up and passed the photo back, "I keep up with the news."

Naomasa nodded, tucking the photograph back into his coat pocket, "That's correct. We hope you can share with us what you remember about him. His work and behavior. Where he lived and went after leaving here. Anything you might know."

Ueda sat back in her chair and shook her head, "It's been a while, but … Frankly, it came as a shock to see he's a suspect for something like abduction. Dr. Tsubasa never seemed off in any way. Dedicated to his work and to the clinic. Maybe a little reserved at times, but nothing that stood out. I wasn't very close with him personally. I worked with him just over two years before he moved, and he tended to keep to himself."

"Do you remember why Dr. Tsubasa left?"

Ueda nodded, "My understanding was there had been a family emergency and he was taking time away for a while. It was the first I'd heard him mention family - Besides his grandson, I mean."

Toshinori's lips pressed in a thin line.

If the Doctor went immediately to All for One after their first clash, a family emergency made a quick and effective cover. But his grandson… A childhood friend of Young Bakugou and Izuku.

 _"Honestly, you're worse than half the children I see."_

"How did Dr. Tsubasa act around his grandson and other children?" Toshinori asked.

"Perfectly doting," Ueda sighed with a shrug, "His grandson - I think his name was Hiroshi? - He spent a lot of time here during the summer when he wasn't with the neighborhood kids. Dr. Tsubasa let him play in his office from time to time. And he would brag about how big Hiroshi's wings were growing and how strong he was going to be. Dr. Tsubasa was rarely animated, except when it came to his grandson and quirks. But given his specialization, that's hardly out of the ordinary."

A knot of rage burned hot inside Toshinori's chest, and his tail tuft flicked, agitated. _So, this is the mask he chose to wear._

Ueda continued, "Dr. Tsubasa specialized in quirk development, so his patients ranged from infants to children of around five or six years. He could be blunt at times with unruly ones, but he was generally very good with them." She paused, brows pinched, and asked, "You don't think he would hurt anyone, do you? It's hard to imagine Dr. Tsubasa is your man, but… Well, I guess you don't suspect this sort of thing of a coworker."

"For now, we're just trying to find any information on Dr. Tsubasa's past that might be helpful," Naomasa said, "Is there anything else you remember about Tsubasa?"

"Yes, let me…" Ueda dug into her desk drawer. She pulled out a pamphlet and passed it to Naomasa, "Some of our medical staff volunteer at a free clinic in Hosu. Dr. Tsubasa volunteered his time there often. Someone who worked with him there might know more."

"Yavin Central Clinic," Naomasa read. He pocketed the pamphlet and stood, bowing to Dr. Ueda, "Thank you for your time and cooperation. If there's anything else that you remember -"

"I'll call," Ueda said. She stood and opened the door to her office, "Let me show you out."

The bell jangled as Toshinori pulled the clinic door shut behind him.

Already walking down the sidewalk, Naomasa hunched his shoulders against the chill and tapped on his phone.

"Yavin Central Clinic is in South Hosu and on our priority list," Naomasa said briskly, "I'm requesting Bellamy meet us there."

"Gut feeling?" Toshinori asked, jogging to his side.

He felt it too. The _Good Doctor_ didn't have to work as a pediatrician. There were significant risks maintaining a civilian life while working so closely with All for One, from either police, other villains, or All for One himself. In order to maintain that civilian life, Tsubasa ingratiated himself with the people in the communities where he settled. He gained their trust and hid himself in plain sight.

Working in a free clinic on the rough side of Hosu? Generous on its face and admirable to anyone with good intentions, but… This was a man who stripped off flesh and bone to pick the brains of his mutated victims. A man who likely turned his own _grandson_ into a noumu and handed him over to be used by the League.

What did the Doctor stand to gain from volunteer work that he didn't already have working at the C.E. Clinic?

"Take a look," Naomasa passed Toshinori the pamphlet.

Toshinori skimmed the front, flipped it over, and read through the clinical services.

"Shit," he cursed, hackles stiffening.

Drug rehabilitation and overnight cots for the homeless.

"It fits the building parameters we've set and his M.O.," Naomasa said grimly, "If he was going to look for subjects without the hassle of missing persons reports, I have a feeling he'd start here."

"It fits," Toshinori agreed. Taking advantage of those most in need, the Doctor and All for One really were cut from the same cloth.

 _Click-click_.

Toshinori's ear twitched and he hid the pamphlet in a utility pouch, "Don't look now, we're being followed."

"Damn it. Now?" Naomasa grumbled and pulled the brim of his hat lower, "Tabloids again?"

"Most likely. Aizawa mentioned they were chasing rumors about me. You have to give them credit, they're persistent," Toshinori pressed the side of his visor, blinking as it extended to cover the top half of his face, "Take a left at the alley."

"This was a lot easier when you could jump across the city," Naomasa huffed, ducking into the narrow space.

Toshinori chuckled and jogged after Naomasa, ears twitching at the quiet curse from their stalker, "Maybe so - Take this right. Although, this might be a blessing in disguise. A good opportunity to test things out."

Naomasa turned and slowed to a stop in front of a tall divider fence. Dead end.

"And how do you figure that?" he asked, gesturing to the fire escape. Too high and ladder withdrawn.

Toshinori adjusted his gloves and wrapped his tail firmly around Naomasa's chest, "I can still jump."

He crouched, legs warm and claws gripping the ground.

"W- No wait! Toshin- _hrk!_ "

Toshinori leapt, clearing the fence with Naomasa in tow. He reached for the fire escape… and fell short. His claws hit and slipped off the edge of the railing.

"Oh shit!" Toshinori reached out and caught the alley wall, his claws scraping down the brick -

\- and came to a sudden stop. The gloves held firm against the rough wall.

"Huh! What do you know?" He settled his feet against the brick, turned his palm, and ran his thumb against the textured pads, "So, that's what they do."

"You didn't know!?" Naomasa yelped from below, feet dangling a meter from the ground.

"Blessing in disguise!" Toshinori repeated with a laugh. He lowered Naomasa to the ground, tail wagging as Naomasa stepped back, "Head to your car. I'll meet you there!"

"Toshi-"

"On your three!" Toshinori called as he scrambled up the wall and grinned when Naomasa clicked his tongue, likely spotting the tabloid photographer turning the corner.

Claws and gloves gripping the brick, Toshinori climbed another story and pulled himself over the lip of the roof. Crisp wind rushed past him as he stood. It brushed through his hair and ridged mane, chilling the bare skin of his face and tail.

The sun hung high in the clear, blue sky. Its light and heat seeped into Toshinori's suit. Cars rumbled, bike bells rang, people walked and talked, but it was all distant. Muffled in the peaceful, familiar rush of wind past his ears.

Breathing in the crisp air, Toshinori closed his eyes, and for a moment he was weightless. Not standing on a three-story shop, but mid-jump between the tops of skyscrapers - the world quiet aside from the rush of wind and One for All through his veins, warming him from the inside out.

He was warm now.

"Alright," Toshinori stretched and peered around the rooftops, "Now where did we park? Oh!" Dim, colored lights flickered to life across his visor.

[Synchronizing Watch GPS… Complete!] Power Loader's digitized voice chimed by his ear, [Visor Display Active.] A small map appeared in the corner of his vision and a bright spot of light pinged in the center.

"Well now!" Toshinori barked a laugh as more lights appeared, highlighting the flat, stable plains of the roof in a faint golden grid, "What else did they pack into this suit?"

He shook his head with a wide grin and turned toward the parking garage in the middle distance.

 _Not too far._ Toshinori bounced on his toes and jogged across the roof. His long strides quickened, feet thumping across the flat surface. Without a second thought, he planted a foot on the edge and leapt to the next building.

He landed and fell forward, catching himself on his hands and racing ahead. Dodging air ducts and access hatches was a breeze compared to Cementoss's moving obstacle course. His footfalls _clanged_ loud as he launched himself from a metal duct and landed on the railing of a fire escape. Scaling up its side, he threw himself onto the slanted, tiled roof and across the next alley.

Toshinori's heart thundered in his burning chest - burning from quirks or strain or cold, he didn't give a damn. He was afire with life and the freedom to run, to leap, to _soar._ A wild grin split his face as he flung himself feet first through a narrow gap between ducts and twisted onto his side, sliding down the steep slope of a shop's skylight. He slipped off and caught the nearest streetlight. His tail wrapped around the pole and stabilized him as he climbed to its top.

Perched high above the street, Toshinori laughed and gasped for air.

"Not quite in top shape yet," he coughed and rubbed his aching chest. His limbs throbbed with his racing pulse, and his joints ached sharply. He already regretted pushing himself, but in the nicest way.

"Hey!" Naomasa called from the street below.

Toshinori grinned down, tail wagging ecstatically, "You caught up quick!"

"Yeah well, I took the easy way," Naomasa replied with a long-suffering smile.

Barking a laugh, Toshinori leaned back and went hocks over head. Tail catching his perch, Toshinori swung upside-down, twisted, and let go.

" _Shit!_ Toshinori!" Naomasa sucked in a strained breath as Toshinori landed on his feet beside him, "Be careful."

Toshinori scoffed. He straightened himself, brushing off his gloves, "It's alright, Naomasa. I know my limits."

"Mhm?" Naomasa hummed skeptically and tugged the brim of his hat lower, "Are you planning on climbing to the car too or…?"

Toshinori grinned, tail swaying.

The car was _only_ on the fifth level.

Well within his limits.

* * *

"Okay," Kouichi sighed, exhausted. He slumped back and brushed the sand from his hands, pushing the excess into the small pile under his discarded coat, "It's all hidden. Thanks for the warning Shin'ya."

Shin'ya Misawa grunted quietly, massaging his temples, "Yeah…"

"Thank you for looking out for Kouichi," Mamoru Tani said, knocking her thick knuckles against the wall. "But you should get some real sleep, hon'."

Shin'ya flinched at the soft knock and grunted again, grumbling something about "insomnia."

 _His quirk's backlash? That sucks,_ Kouichi hugged his knees, eyeing the small scars on his own speckled hands. Leftover remnants of cracks in his dried skin. He turned them over, frowning at the pull of his skin. It was already drying out without his hand cream.

Huffing, he scrubbed his palms together. As his skin warmed, small grains of sand fell from between his hands. Just a little, but better than nothing. More to use and strengthen the thin line of contact between him and the others down the hall.

"Hey kiddo," the short, gruff man - Kou Shiga - called. He kicked the large pot of soil stuck in his cell with him, "Y'think you can use any of this?"

Kouichi eyed the moss-covered pot. The soil inside looked dark and moist. Maybe garden soil. He shook his head, "I don't think so. My quirk _'Geonosis'_ is strictly sand control. I might be able to separate the sand out of the soil if it has enough, but I'd have to touch it."

"Worth a shot," Shiga huffed, tugging another fistful of leaves off his arm and tossing them into the growing pile at the front of his personal greenhouse.

"Could you _please_ keep your plants inside your _own cell?_ " Shin'ya snipped, voice strained, pulling his leg away from the moss creeping through the floor vents.

Kou snorted bitterly and yanked a thick vine from his shoulder with a wince. Green liquid oozed from the broken skin the vine left behind, and Kou gingerly pressed at the wound, "Would if I could."

"We're all in the same boat," Tayori Yamadori admonished softly from the far cell. Kouichi caught the gentle but stern look she sent Shin'ya, "Don't rock it unnecessarily because you are tired."

Shin'ya expression pinched, trembling fists gripping his hair -

Then, he sighed and curled tighter on himself. He rubbed at the dark bags under his eyes, murmuring, "Sorry, I just - Sorry…"

Mamoru pat his cell wall gently before turning back to Kouichi. Her kind, dark eyes roamed over him, "How're you holding up? Feeling… anything?"

Kouichi shrugged and bit his tongue.

Shiga had filled him in on why the Doctor abducted them all - at least, as much as he'd gathered. He hadn't always been green. He hadn't always been a walking jungle. The Doctor had done something to change him.

Kouichi rubbed his arms, trembling fingertips lingering over the faint, throbbing ache in his shoulder.

 _What did he do_ _to_ me _?_

"Kouichi?"

Kouichi looked back up at Mamoru with a wide grin, "I'm fine! Just a little tired." He flexed and jut out his chest, "If my quirk can help us get out of here, I'm going to use it even if it wears me out a bit. Besides, things like this can't scare a hero-in-training! We can handle this if we keep working together."

"That's the fighting spirit!" Mamoru laughed, "You show that villain doc who's boss, sweetheart."

"Yeah," Kouichi promised and let the jitters roll out of him. They were going to be okay. He was going to be okay, and if he could handle this, hero entrance exams would be nothing. Besides, in a world without All Might everyone needed to be a little braver. A little more heroic.

Kouichi slipped his hand under his coat. Beneath the bunched fabric was a fine layer of sand, rough compared to the smooth floor tiles. He brushed his fingertips through it and took a slow deep breath.

 _I'm strong. I'm capable. I've got this,_ he repeated. Just like Mom and Dad always said. _I've got this._

An odd sensation shot up his spine, and Kouichi shuddered, "A-ah?" His back tensed and a slow knot cramped under his shoulder blades.

 _Wh- ?_ Kouichi gasped raggedly as burning pain ripped around his chest. His ribs cramped, and his breath caught.

"Kid!" Shiga barked, ferns fanning from his neck.

"I'm ok-kay. I'm okay," Kouichi stuttered, sucking in a shallow breath. Arms shaking, he gingerly rubbed his chest, pressing at the burning muscle, "It's just -"

He froze.

 _Wh-what?_

Scalding static raced under his skin. Muscle twitched. Unfamiliar. _Wrong._

"Kouichi, where does it hurt?" Mamoru asked with gentle urgency.

"Um -" Kouichi panicked and crossed his arms over his chest. Everyone was looking at him. They were _scared._

Another shudder shook him to the bone, and his skin itched and strained. Two lumps raised under his arms, feverish and squirming.

"I uh," Kouichi managed a wobbly grin. Fatigue washed over him, and he blinked back tears, "I don't think I got plants."

Mamoru glanced back at Shiga, then pat the floor vent, "We're right here, sweetheart. It's going to be okay. We're all with you."

All except Shin'ya, curled up in the back of his cell. His golden eyes shimmered, half-closed as he checked out.

Kouichi envied him. Just a little.

" _Ghh-!_ " Sweat beaded on his forehead, and another wave of fatigue rolled down his spine. His heart thudded hard and fast in his chest.

 _What did he do?_ Kouichi shivered, _What's happening to me?_

The deadbolt unlocked with a metallic _click._

"Hey!" Shiga hollered, slamming the bottom of his boot against the glass door of his cell, "What the _Hell_ did yah do t' the kid!?"

The Doctor shut the door behind his noumu and only raised a brow at Shiga, mustache twitching up in a smirk, "Energetic today, aren't you Kousuke? Very encouraging."

" _Screw_ you," Shiga ground out, poison ivy unfurling from his arms and climbing up the glass walls.

"Now that's an interesting development." The Doctor crossed the room and unhooked the clipboard hanging from Shiga's cell, murmuring as he wrote, "Showing higher variety of species germinating. Rapid growth rates. Fascinating."

"Look at me, bastard!" Shiga fumed, face flushing a deeper shade of green as he stood and kicked the door again. The ivy-wrapped chains attached to his wrists rattled, and Shiga snarled, "What did yah _do_ t' the _kid?_ "

Kouichi set his jaw when the Doctor finally looked his way.

 _Can't scare me. Can't scare me,_ Kouichi repeated despite the terrified flutter of his heart.

With a thoughtful hum, the Doctor walked to the front of Kouichi's cell and unlocked it, "Noumu."

The hulking noumu lumbered across the room, pausing beside the Doctor.

"Restrain him."

"No!" Kouichi yelped and scrambled back. Twisting, he - Electric pain seared around his chest. His back locked, and he fell with a broken shout.

"Leave him alone!" Mamoru bellowed, "He's just a kid!"

Arms trembling, Kouichi reached for his coat, shoving his fingers under the material and touched the small pile of sand.

A massive hand wrapped around Kouichi's leg and yanked. Tile scraped his skin.

He yelped, coat slipping out of reach.

Grains of sand fell from his fingertips, disconnected from his quirk.

 _No no no! Think! Where -?_

Kouichi rolled and spotted the thin line of sand connecting him to the others. _There!_

The noumu pinned Kouichi's free arm and screeched. Foul breath washed over Kouichi's face, hot and humid. Glistening red muscle, milky sinew, and broad, flat teeth peek out from under the cloth mask.

Something hot and slick dripped onto Kouichi's cheek.

Baring his teeth, Kouichi gave the noumu a sharp kick in the gut. He twisted in the noumu's iron grip, reaching for the line of sand.

It was so close!

Just at his fingertips.

"Let him go!" Mamoru smashed her fist against the wall.

 _There's enough there. I can hit -_ Kouichi gasped as his quirk latched onto the line of sand. Sensation zipped down the line, all the way back to the pile hidden in the others' room. He raised his hand to call it all back. To fight. To -

The Doctor walked into the cell and looked over the noumu's shoulder.

 _I can…_ A frightened whine choked Kouichi. _I can't…_

He grit his teeth and dropped his shaking fist, going limp in the noumu's grasp.

 _They need my quirk. We need my sand to talk. We need it to get out. They're_ depending _on me,_ Kouichi panted and shot the Doctor a defiant glare. Jaw set. _He can't know. I won't let him_ _know. I've got this. I've got this. I've got this._

Kouichi still jerked away when the Doctor crouched beside him.

"Raise his arms," the Doctor ordered.

Kouichi winced as the noumu pulled his arms up. Everything ached. His chest felt like one, big pulled muscle.

The cold air chilled Kouichi's sweat soaked skin as the Doctor hitched up the side of his shirt. He prodded at his ribs with gloved hands.

"Secondary pectoral muscles are coming in smoothly," he thought aloud, hovering over Kouichi. The Doctor adjusted his glasses. His sharp, clinical gaze moved to the aching spot under Kouichi's left arm.

Kouichi flinched, hissing through his teeth as the Doctor ran a thumb over the sensitive lump.

"Arm bud forming smoothly… Smaller than I expected." The Doctor checked Kouichi's other side, frowned, and glanced at the noumu, "Keep a hold on him."

"He's just a kid," Mamoru called after the Doctor as he rose and crossed the room.

Kouichi heard a rustling and could just see the Doctor digging into a small cooler by the door.

Mamoru let out a frustrated huff, "Look. Undo what you did to him and do it to me instead. Just let him go home."

"Wh- No, Mamoru. You don't -" Kouichi's voice cracked, and he gaped at her when she shook her head.

"Sweetheart, I'd do just about anything to protect you," Mamoru whispered urgently, "You're brave and strong, but you are a _child._ You shouldn't _be here._ "

The Doctor pulled out a clear bag of fluids and tubing.

Kouichi tensed - spotting the needle glinting in the fluorescent light. _No no no no-_

The Doctor returned to Kouichi's cell, pausing briefly and considering Mamoru, "That's right… You have children, don't you? Two boys and a girl, correct?"

"Don't you fucking talk about them," Mamoru ground out, "Don't you _dare._ "

"I'm hoping that protective streak of yours makes you more resilient when it's your turn," the Doctor replied casually. He knelt beside Kouichi and held up a tiny butterfly needle, "I'm giving you IV fluids and concentrated supplements for your arms -"

 _My arms? Wh- ?_ Kouichi glanced down, straining to look over his bunched up shirt, and stiffened.

A cold nausea roiled in his gut, freezing and shaking him to his core.

Where his shirt was pulled up, he could _see_ the wrong muscle tense under his skin and the way the alien lump _squirmed -_

Lightheaded…

He was lightheaded.

Kouichi's gaze slipped up to the ceiling, watching the lights and tiles swim. A tear slipped down his cheek, dripping into the shell of his ear. His breath fluttered. Too light.

He barely felt the needle slip into the back of his hand.

"It's best if you don't touch the IV," the Doctor stood and hung the clear bag on a small hook by the door, "If you pull it out, your body is going to pull nutrients from itself until you waste away. Your new arms will grow deformed, and it will hurt."

 _Oh,_ Kouichi thought, staring up at the ceiling and away from those things under his arms.

"Why are you doing this?" Mamoru asked, strained disgust in her voice, "Just undo -"

The Doctor scoffed and nudged his noumu. The creature let Kouichi go and followed the Doctor from the cell.

Kouichi carefully tugged down his shirt, hand trembling as he brushed his fingers over his chest.

"The changes are permanent," the Doctor said and chuckled as Mamoru fell silent.

* * *

Latex snapped quietly against the Doctor's skin as he tugged off his gloves and tossed them into the bin. Tapping his pen against Sunaba's file, he relished the stunned silence of his subjects. It gave him time to think.

 _Heteromorph Quirk "Four Arms" is assimilating well,_ he wrote in the file, _Growth successfully boosted by stimulants. Secondary pectoralis major and minor fusing with existing bone structure. Arm buds forming -_

"You're going to be okay, sweetheart," Tani murmured behind the Doctor.

The Doctor smiled to himself.

Yes, with the proper nutrients and supervision the boy would be fine. He was young and healthy. His own quirk was still in its adolescent stage. Plenty of potential for growth and mutation with the right combinations. Even without the benefits given the other group, the boy had a certain resiliency. Sunaba had the same fire he saw in All Might for the short time he had the opportunity to work on him.

Slipping on a fresh pair of gloves, the Doctor opened the counter top refrigerator. After a moment of poking through vials, he pulled out a couple particularly interesting quirks. He set them carefully down on a small rolling tray with a sterile syringe for each.

"Yamadori," the Doctor turned, "I think you've waited long enough."

Tani shot up and slammed her palms against the door of her cell, "No! You leave that woman alone!"

 _Need to shorten her chains,_ the Doctor noted as he unlocked Yamadori's cell.

Tayori Yamadori sat in seiza and glared sharply at the Doctor as he swung open the door.

" _Don't._ "

The Doctor glanced to the next cell and smiled as Shiga glared back, _So self-sacrificing. I picked a good batch._

He prepared the syringe, N-057 at his side, and shrugged, "My apologies Kousuke, this one is not for you."

"I said _don't!_ Leave 'er alone, y'fuckin' bastard," Shiga growled, broad green leaves sprouted slowly from his back and shoulders.

The Doctor ignored him, reaching out and taking Yamadori's arm.

Yamadori stiffened and tugged her arm back, surprisingly strong for a woman of her age.

The Doctor tightened his grip, "Would you prefer my noumu pin you too?"

Yamadori raised her chin proudly, hands curling into knotted fists, "Be careful, Doctor."

Slipping the needle into the woman's skin, the Doctor chuckled, "Always am."

 _Slap!_

The stinging blow knocked the Doctor's glasses from his face. The half emptied syringe clattered to the floor.

Yamadori breathed a shaky sigh, hand still poised in the air, palm reddened. She held her head high, eyes sharp and proud.

N-057 roared behind the Doctor, but stayed in place - stopped by the Doctor's raised hand.

The Doctor glared, eyes flashing, and Yamadori froze. Her shaking, breathing, and heartbeat all stopped. Still as a corpse.

Clicking his tongue, the Doctor plucked his glasses and the syringe from the floor.

 _Reevaluate._ He ran his thumb across the cracked lens of his glasses, _Never underestimate. Damn it._

"Wh..What did you do?" Shiga scrambled across his cell, "She's turnin' blue. Stop! St-o-!"

Leaves burst from Shiga's green skin. Vines slammed into the glass walls and writhed. Purple belladonna flowers hung like so many bells in his cell.

His eyes…

The Doctor grit his teeth, irritation throbbing at his temples.

 _He_ imprinted _on her._

Standing, the Doctor roughly brushed off his coat and perched his glasses on his nose.

"Let it be known," he snarled lowly, cheek stinging, "I can kill any one of you with a look. Try that again, and I _will_ find a new test subject."

 _Damn it. I can't. Not now. I can't afford to._

Releasing Yamadori, he tossed the used syringe into the biohazard bin.

The quirk would take. Less than a drop was needed for All for One's will to take hold. That was hardly a problem.

Shiga imprinting early… Imprinting on another subject. That was a problem. That was not _planned._ Yes, it confirmed that imprinted noumu could keep their minds, but after only one additional quirk? That was hardly new information. All for One's followers gifted with a booster-type quirk were unquestioningly loyal to him.

Perhaps not to the same level as a true imprint, but similar enough to bring in a factor of doubt.

No. It wasn't enough. All Might kept his mind with _seven_ quirks and dramatic physical change. The experiment wasn't close to finished.

 _Adapt._ The Doctor closed and locked Yamadori's cell, glancing at her briefly to check her heart rate as she coughed and gasped for air. A small, soft vine crept from the cell vent and curled around her little finger.

Shiga shivered in his cell, pupils pinpricks and fixed on Yamadori.

The Doctor frowned, unsatisfied, _I can still work with this. As long as she doesn't die…_

Plucking the second syringe from his tray, he crossed to Misawa's cell.

"Shin'ya, wake up," Tani pounded on the wall between them as the Doctor unlocked his cell, "You need to come back now. Shin'ya! Damn it! Leave him be!"

Misawa was a sturdy, young adult. Good health record.

The Doctor's lips twitched, _Aside from his chronic insomnia._

Still. He was a prime candidate for a non-standard heteromorph quirk.

The Doctor lifted Misawa's limp arm and pushed the needle in.

* * *

The sky had taken on a hazy orange tint by the time they arrived in South Hosu, the sun sitting low despite the early hour. Long shadows passed over the car as they drove up to the narrow curb and rolled to a stop.

"Bellamy should be arriving soon," Naomasa said, killing the engine.

Toshinori nodded and slipped out of the car. His ears perked to attention, on guard.

He'd worked in South Hosu before. There were a number of small, startup gangs sprinkled through the area. Most were young adults with too much idle time and semi-destructive quirks. Crime in the area was opportunistic. Random muggings, robberies, and assault. It dipped in areas where heroes actively patrolled.

He eyed a small group loitering by the corner. The tallest of them, a young man with rocky fists, spat on the sidewalk. He shot Toshinori a hard glare before leading his group down a shadowed alley.

Toshinori chuckled. _Not much of a threat if the sight of an unknown hero sends them off._

"Here they are," Naomasa said, joining Toshinori on the narrow sidewalk.

A police cruiser pulled around the intersection and parked behind Naomasa's car. Jean-Baptiste Bellamy clambered out of the back seat, thanking the patrol officers for the ride before shutting the door behind him.

"So, this is the clinic?" Bellamy asked quietly, regarding the small, plain front across the street.

The brick building was old and worn. A broken window was covered in waterlogged plywood, and its high, sloping roof needed repairs. A short line huddled outside the entrance, each person bundled up against the chill. The clinic's sign hung above the door, its paint cracked and flaking in places. Yavin Central Clinic.

"Hm," Bellamy slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, a flash of beads peeking between his fingers.

"Feel anything?" Naomasa asked.

Bellamy chuckled dryly, "The better question is what don't I feel." He shook his head, "Illness, hunger, anxiety, desperation, frustration… relief and calm too. Determination and fatigue."

"But," Toshinori supplied.

"Not that haze I felt from you," Bellamy finished with a nod, "Still, it's worth a look. I may not be close enough yet."

"All the more reason to look into it," Naomasa said, adjusting the brim of his hat and crossing the street with a wave to the patrol officers.

Toshinori smiled lopsidedly after him and followed him into the building.

Inside, the waiting room was packed full. A few small families sat alongside a number of people with non-standard heteromorph quirks and a pale young man nervously bouncing his leg. A tense, curious hush washed over the patients-in-waiting as they spotted Toshinori's suit and Naomasa's badge.

The nervous man suddenly jerked upward and shuffled toward the door.

"No! Yuuga," a plump, middle aged woman rushed across the lobby and took the man's hands in hers. She gave them a few urgent pats, ushering him back into his seat, "You stay right here and I'll get to you soon." Then in a softer voice, "I'm so proud you came back. That's a great sign, dear. Don't worry, I'll take care of things here."

She turned and gave them each a quick, measuring look. Clasping her hands together, she heaved a harried sigh, "So. How can I help you gentlemen?"

"We had a few questions about a doctor that volunteered here six or so years ago," Naomasa said, passing her the photograph of Tsubasa.

"Oh!" The woman's shoulders sagged in relief, "Yes, I think I could help you there. I've been here - oh, some twenty-odd years. Megumi Kansaki is my name. Now, which doctor -" She looked down at the photograph and froze.

"Ma'am?" Toshinori glanced at Bellamy who uncomfortably cleared his throat.

Kansaki shook her head, lips pursed, "I'm sorry, but I think you are looking for the wrong man."

"How do you know that?" Naomasa asked, expression and voice neutral.

"Well, I know because I know," Kansaki insisted, waving the photograph at them, "This clinic wouldn't _be_ here without Dr. Tsubasa, and I -" she heaved another sigh and set her hands on her hips. She shook her head again, "Walk and talk. I have too many people to see today to stand here and chew the fat."

With that she spun and marched out of the waiting room, Naomasa hot on her heels and Toshinori and Bellamy behind him.

Out of the waiting room and down a long, crowded hall, Kansaki turned and pushed open a set of double doors.

Toshinori's brows rose. The clinic was little more than a triage center inside a repurposed chapel. A high arched ceiling soared above, white paint cracked and peeling. In place of pews were lines of occupied cots with only three volunteers walking between them. One of the volunteers ducked into a curtained-off area toward the back of the chapel.

Naomasa caught up to Kansaki as she stopped beside a sleeping patient's cot, "I assume you worked with Dr. Tsubasa here then?"

Kansaki gently but efficiently checked the elderly man's temperature and brushed a damp cloth across his dirt smeared brow, "Of course I did. Too few doctors come here. You work with everyone who volunteers, but Dr. Tsubasa was a godsend for this little clinic. He was skilled and his quirk was a _literal_ lifesaver."

Naomasa flipped through his small notebook, pen poised above the paper, "His quirk?"

Kansaki moved to the next cot, nudging a small water cup into the young woman's hands, "Drink dear. You're still dehydrated. Yes, his quirk." She turned and tapped just under her eyes, "He could look at you and know what was wrong. No x-ray machines, no MRI, no - Do you know how expensive it is to run those machines for a single patient? And if it turned up nothing? We may be a free clinic, but we can't pull finances to cover expensive exams out of thin air. He could look at a person and just _know_ if it was a sprain or a break. If it was just a cough or something more serious. He was an invaluable asset to us."

Toshinori's hackles raised.

A data-collection quirk for a person in the medical field was an incredible gift. Toshinori knew quite a few from the months he'd spent recovering from his operations. But a quirk like that in the hands of the _Good Doctor_ … No wonder he was capable of creating and operating on noumu in warehouses.

Kansaki snapped her fingers and pointed at a young man behind her, "Put that back. Those are not for you!"

The teen flinched and quickly placed the small pill cup back on another volunteer's supply cart.

Sighing, Kansaki stood and moved to the next cot. She pulled out a wooden tongue depressor and gently asked the child to open her mouth. Then, she felt under the girl's jaw and ears. She hummed and wrote a small note, giving it to the girl's father, "Take this to the front and they'll give you what she needs. Make sure she rests and drinks water."

"Do you remember anything about Dr. Tsubasa that might have been odd?" Naomasa asked when the pair left.

Kansaki shot him an exasperated look, "Quite frankly, no. He was just the man we needed back then. We could use more like him here now if you ask me. Not everyone is cut out for this kind of work." She moved to the next cot, "Not to mention his generous friends."

Naomasa looked up from his notes, "Who?"

"He was a successful doctor with equally successful friends." Kansaki busied herself with changing another patient's IV, "What we do is a charity. Not for profit. Funds were difficult to come by back then - especially for a free clinic this side of Hosu. He was kind enough to bring our work to his friends' attention. Like I said, without Dr. Tsubasa, this clinic would not be here."

A tight grip clamped around Toshinori's forearm.

Sweat beading across his brow, Bellamy cleared his throat as the warm color drained from his face, "This building has a basement, yes? It used to be a funeral home -"

"Please, don't… mention that," Kansaki murmured urgently, glancing around, "We couldn't afford another facility. I'd rather you don't _spook_ my patients. Too many people already say we're haunted. Of all the ridiculous garbage." She shook her head.

"What is the basement used for?" Naomasa asked, neutral as ever.

Bellamy's hand trembled, his other dug into his suit pocket. Beads ground faintly together in his fist.

Kansaki pursed her lips, "We have a detox program. Our patients need safe places to sleep while they recover from their addictions. It's quiet and cooler down there." She shrugged and passed the next patient a small bowl of rice.

"Could we take a look down there?"

"Not without a warrant," Kansaki said firmly, "I'm sorry, but that's policy. To protect our longer term patients, we require the proper procedures to be followed."

Naomasa nodded, "Of course."

"Do you use the whole basement?" Bellamy asked.

Kansaki turned to Bellamy, expression softening, "Are you feeling alright?"

Bellamy waved off her concern, "I'm alright. Really. The basement, ma'am. Do you utilize the whole space?"

Sighing, Kansaki wrung out a small towel and tossed it into a small laundry hamper under a medical cart, "No. A section is privately rented by one of our donors. And no, I don't know who. That's between them and the clinic's founder."

Bellamy nodded, then squeezed Toshinori's sleeve.

"Let's get you some air," Toshinori whispered and hooked his arm around Bellamy, "We'll just be by the car, Tsukauchi."

Naomasa frowned, but waved as they went before turning back to Kansaki.

Toshinori shouldered open the double door, Bellamy in toe.

Halfway down the crowded hall, the elevator dinged and opened.

" _Jesus -_ " Bellamy wheezed and stumbled, rubbing his forehead as Toshinori rushed him back outside.

"Are they there?" Toshinori whispered urgently as they crossed the narrow street.

"Must have some kind of suppressor laced in the walls," Bellamy murmured, looking back at the building, "In the elevator doors too but not completely sealed."

Naomasa exited the clinic and jogged across to them, "You felt something."

Bellamy grimaced, "Yes. Whoever is using that excess space, they're hiding - I don't know - there were many. It's similar to the hazy fog I felt coming from you, Yagi. Too similar. Lord have mercy. There's too much suffering in there…" he added under his breath.

"I'll call it in," Naomasa gave Bellamy a grateful pat on his back, "Head back to the precinct and rest up. You've done your part. We'll do ours."

Toshinori pulled his phone from his belt, "I'll contact Aizawa. We may need Eraserhead if there are noumu or more gang members guarding the abductees."

"Good idea," Naomasa said, "We need to move fast."

* * *

Two hours. Two hours since the Doctor's last visit.

Mirai let the hand holding Nozomi's watch fall to her chest and settled back against her rolled up blanket. Gaze drifting to the ceiling, she traced the lines in the gray tiles.

The Doctor sent them to the restroom with the noumu again. He never went with them.

It was Souma's idea to test the noumu's behavior away from the Doctor. It went with them into the restroom, but let go of them only long enough to open the door. Just long enough…

Mirai counted the tiles from the light. Two tiles - two pairs of doors to the left, then a right turn. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight steps down the hall. The bathroom was the first door on the right, but the hall stretched further down, ending in a perpendicular hall. There was a fire extinguisher mounted on the wall just around the corner. There were no windows on either side.

Mirai ran through the images again. Two pair. Turn. Eight steps. Bathroom. _Run._ Three pair. T-turn. Fire extinguisher around the corner. No windows - _The noumu's gurgling growl and thundering footsteps closed in. It grabbed her arm, yanked her to a stop, dragging her back to the bathroom._

Mirai shivered.

One test run was enough to know the noumu was fast but at least not inhumanly so. It also proved that it couldn't tell the Doctor she ran and made it down the hall.

Mirai breathed in and out slowly. Brushing her fingers through her hair and over the horns, she ran through the images again. She had to memorize them. Had to. She was the only one who made it to the end of the hall.

A soft whimper drifted from down the room.

"How are you holding up, Chris?" Nozomi asked, leaning against her cell wall. Pale peach tones rippled over her skin, finally settling on her own skin tone.

In the last cell, Chris was curled over himself, clutching his abdomen. He shook his head, a small groan escaping him, "It h-hurts…"

Water sloshed and Souma gingerly slipped out of his tub. Steam drifted off his bronze scales as they dried, and he squeezed water from his shirt and new swim-shorts he'd begrudgingly traded for his waterlogged pants on the condition he'd get them back.

Souma sat gingerly on the floor next to his folded binder, careful not to put pressure on the thick, short tail still growing from his lower back.

 _"Where does it hurt worst?_ _"_ he asked, and Mirai repeated the question.

Chris hissed between his teeth, "M-my stomach. My mouth… Just everything -" he jerked and curled tighter, hand flying to cover his mouth as he gagged. Shuddering with hiccuping dry heaves, he scratched at his arms, "And - And my skin hurts. I-itches."

A loud, groaning gurgle came from Chris's stomach, and he curled tighter.

"You need to eat something," Nozomi said quietly, glancing at Taeka sleeping in the next cell. "If you're changing too…"

Chris muffled a frightened sob and shook his head again, pushing the partially eaten tray of food away, "Nothing _tastes_ right. It doesn't - It makes it hurt _worse._ "

"Shh, okay. It's going to be okay," Nozomi called softly. She glanced back at Mirai, worry etched across her brow before turning back to Chris, "We're going to be okay. We're going to get out."

"We have a plan. Okay, Chris?" Mirai called, smiling when Chris looked her way, "We're going to make it."

 _Shfff!_

Sand whirled out from under the far counter. The line zipped across the room, brushing in a frenzy against the doors of the cell.

Mirai climbed off her cot and knelt on the floor as the sand found the gap in the door of her cell. Souma leaned in as close as he was able as Nozomi asked, "What are they saying?"

Mirai held up a hand, watching as the sand piled and shifted.

"Oh my god…" Mirai read the words again and a laugh bubbled out of her, "Oh my god!"

The sand settled.

 _Police! Police are coming!_

* * *

Toshinoumu's New Suit Designed by Juustozzi! Please go check it out on Tumblr or Archive of Our Own since FFN doesn't allow on-chapter artwork. We seriously can't express how excited we are to finally be able to share the design Juustozzi drew up for us. It's seriously so badass!

* * *

So guess what y'all! We not only have the Toshinoumu tumblr page, we now have a series discord server! Come join us, chat with us and other readers, share and enjoy each other's art, and get day to day updates about chapter progress.

If you're interesting in joining the discord, please see the Toshinoumu tumblr page for the link!


	3. Breaking Through

I do not own BNHA or its characters.

Thank you for your patience! This year, I got a new job across the country and moved. Which took some time. But Aoi and I are back and ready to go.

With that said, enjoy Chapter 3 of "Contained"

Co-written with Aoimikans

* * *

 **Breaking Through**

Excited tension hovered high and thick in the temporary command center above Yavin Central Clinic. The dusty window blinds were drawn, blocking out the pale light of the moon and street lights below. Only the dim, green glow of an antique desk lamp lit the figures huddled around the commandeered office space.

A breath. A whispered conversation. A too loud rustle of paper. Nervous, eager energy rippled from every hero and officer in the room.

It buzzed in Toshinori's bones.

 _Not long now,_ he thought.

Surrounding the central table, officers outfitted in tactical gear reviewed the layout of the clinic. Officer Tamakawa hunched over his laptop, tapping at the keyboard and speaking quietly into his headset. Standing in the back corner, Aizawa curiously turned Power Loader's small device over in his hands, nodding when he pointed to one side of the device.

Toshinori's attention drifted to the whiteboard and the pictures taped to its surface. His claws dug into the reinforced pads of his gloves.

Mirai Shimeno. Souma Ogawa. Tayori Yamadori. Kousuke Shiga. Nozomi Shishiki. Taeka Yoyogi. Mamoru Tani. Kouichi Sunaba. Chris Kougami. Shin'ya Misawa.

Ten civilians abducted by the man known as the _Good Doctor_ \- Dr. Tsubasa. All for One's doctor. Creator of the Noumu.

 _"Your condition has piqued my interest. If possible, I would like to try creating a few others like you."_

How far along were they for Bellamy to feel the fog as potently as he did? How many quirks were forced on them? How many changes endured? How much pain and trauma? Two teens were on the abduction list…

Determination settled deep in Toshinori's core. Calm. Still. Certain.

Regardless of the changes, physical and mental, he was here to save them. That was the first, most crucial step. Recovery would come after. It did for him. It would for them.

That left only one possible unknown. Whether or not _he_ was there.

Toshinori looked down at his own copy of the building schematics, gaze lingering on the basement layout.

 _Back at the precinct, Bellamy traced the basement walls, "I'm positive they're using a quirk suppressant in the infrastructure. Lead lining, black market tech, or possibly a person with a specialized suppressant-type quirk, but a lining is far more likely."_

 _Naomasa hummed, "Like the Iron Maidens we tested with you."_

 _"Exactly. This elevator though," Bellamy tapped on the square beside the chapel, "There's some kind of crack in the lining when the elevator doors open. That's why I couldn't sense anything from the basement until I was already inside the chapel."_

 _Toshinori straightened and scoured the building schematics, a tentative smile on his face, "Lead linings work both ways."_

 _Naomasa looked up, "What are you thinking, Yagi?"_

 _Toshinori ran his fingers through his hair. Finally nodding, he tapped a claw on the schematics, "It works both ways. Which means, this building is essentially a prison for anyone inside. Sensory quirks can work within them, but can't extend outward. Just like Bellamy couldn't feel anything from the space until a door was opened, anyone relying on sensory quirks inside would have a limited view of their surroundings. It's very likely -" Fog swirled behind his eyes, and Toshinori nudged it down, "… No, I'm certain that he won't be there."_

 _"Oh," Bellamy winced and carefully leaned against the conference room table, "I see._ All for One. _"_

 _Naomasa rested a steadying hand on Bellamy's back, lips pursed in a grim line, "If there is even the smallest chance All for One is there… That complicates things. We can't afford another Kamino. Not now."_

 _"No, we can't," Toshinori agreed quietly._

 _He had no illusions about his own abilities. Without One for All, Toshinori was less than a flea to All for One. An annoyance lucky to have escaped him. And Young Midoriya… He wasn't ready to face him. Not remotely._

 _"But I don't think All for One would willingly trap himself here for Tsubasa's experiment. Not for long." Toshinori pointed to his temple, "All for One relies completely on his sensory quirks. The guards at Tartarus said as much. There's no way he would remain in a building where he is essentially blind to the outside. Not when he has Shigaraki and likely other priorities to keep track of. Not on the whim of a subordinate, no matter how vital that subordinate."_

 _"It's a gamble… But I have to agree," Naomasa shook his head, cheeks puffing out with a heavy sigh, "It's not in All for One's nature to put himself in this kind of corner. Not for something like this."_

 _"That just leaves the Good Doctor," Wright chimed in from his seat at the conference table. He twirled a pen between his fingers, brows wrinkled in thought, "I imagine All for One keeps close tabs on an asset like him, especially if he is as diminished as you say."_

 _Toshinori hummed in agreement, "I have no doubt. We already know he aided in the abductions given the amount of transmission residue found at the scenes - assuming he hasn't passed the quirk along. If Tsubasa was the one to treat him after our first battle, All for One has reason to keep him on a short leash. He's too valuable to lose. So, if All for One isn't inside the same building as the Doctor, it's safe to assume he's using Ragdoll's quirk to keep an eye on him. Search keeps track of locations and weak points. If the Doctor is injured during capture, All for One will know something is wrong."_

 _"That's where our Iron Maidens come in," Naomasa, pointed to the rear of the building, "There's a service elevator that leads to the garage and the back exit. Once the building is secure, we can lower the Iron Maidens into All for One's blind spot and load the Doctor inside. He won't know he's been relocated until it's too late."_

 _"In that case, we should evacuate the civilians using the front entrance before we move in on the Doctor," Toshinori said, "They should be nowhere near the building when we go in."_

 _Naomasa nodded, "Once the evacuation is complete, we'll seal in the perimeter and set up two capture points in the front and back. Yagi - You, Power Loader, and Eraserhead will then break through this wall in the next building. Anyone guarding either the Doctor or the abductees won't expect you coming through the wall."_

Naomasa snapped his fingers.

"Any word on the warrant?" he called, bent over the central table.

Officer Tamakawa covered his headset mic, "Still waiting on the judge's signature! She's reviewing Bellamy's and your statements as well as Wright's supply findings."

"Keep me updated. We'll need that warrant to move if the clinic owner can't be reached for a voluntary search." Naomasa returned his attention to the building layout, "Yagi, what do you see?"

Toshinori peeked through the window blinds.

The sun set hours before, and darkness settled across South Hosu. Directly below and bathed in the gray tones of Toshinori's night vision, the night nurse waved as the last patients filed out of the front. A flicker of light reflected off her keys as she locked up.

 _Good._

"They're closing the clinic for the night," Toshinori said, carefully righting the blinds, "Kansaki is still in the building."

Naomasa nodded and brushed his hands over the large print building schematics, "Our first priority is evacuating civilians and clinic staff. The warming center overnight cots are on the first floor behind the chapel. Any lingering staff may be in the office spaces here or in the basement with the rehab patients. Officer Tamakawa and I will evacuate them using the front lobby doors and escort them to the bus. Once they are safely out, Raid Team A with me will cover the front. Wright with Team B will cover the rear garage exit. Yagi, Eraserhead, and Power Loader will break through and enter through the adjacent basement wall. Locate the abductees, report your findings, and subdue or flush out anyone working under the Doctor." He rapped his knuckles on the board behind him, "Memorize these names and faces. Their lives depend on it."

Toshinori's earpiece crackled to life.

"Bus is in position. Medics on standby."

"Thank you," Naomasa replied, "Wright?"

"Team B is on standby," came Wright's reply.

"Warrant's signed!" Tamakawa called, turning his laptop to show Naomasa, "They're faxing it now!"

Naomasa straightened and adjusted his tactical vest, "Yagi, Eraserhead, and Power Loader. You three head downstairs. Extraction team will move in when you give them the all clear. Raid Team B, get into position. Team A, standby for my word."

Naomasa caught Toshinori's eye and smiled, "Let's bring them all home."

* * *

Humid winter wind rushed through the narrow street as Naomasa and Sansa approached Yavin Central Clinic's worn front door. Through the window, the lobby glowed a dim, dusty yellow. The back office was closed, but a bright fluorescent light shined under the crack in the frame. A shadow shuffled across the threshold, a lone soul in the dark.

Naomasa knocked on the locked lobby door.

Inside, the shadow stilled, and Naomasa knocked again sharply.

Megumi Kansaki opened the office door and paused, arms crossing in recognition. Her lips pressed in a suspicious line, she crossed the lobby and unlocked the door.

"Detective Tsukauchi…" she greeted uncertainly, pulling open the door, "You could have called if you thought of something else to ask."

Her gaze flicked from Sansa to the bulletproof vests they both wore, then to paper in Naomasa's hand. "What's going on?"

Naomasa held out the warrant, "We have a warrant to search the premises. I need your help evacuating the civilians in the building for their own safety."

Kansaki balked, "What? Why? Is this about Dr. Tsu-?"

"Ma'am. It's important we evacuate them as quickly and quietly as possible," Naomasa urged firmly, "Will you help us?"

Kansaki stared at Naomasa, then took the warrant. She barely skimmed through the first page before shaking her head with a harried sigh and shoved it back at Naomasa, "Yes. Yes, come in."

"Thank you," Naomasa said and followed her briskly down the main hall. He squinted in the red-tinted dark. The emergency exit sign at the end of the hall, the only source of light, reflected on the warped tile floor, zipping ahead of their hurried steps. "How many people are staying overnight?"

"I'm the only one on staff tonight. We have about thirty in the warming center and fourteen downstairs," Kansaki's voice shook, breathless, "Does this really have to do with Dr. Tsubasa?"

"Evacuation first, please. The warrant has more information, but it's imperative we think of your patients' safety first," Naomasa pressed.

They passed the chapel doors and came to a stop in front of the warming center.

Naomasa rested a hand on Kansaki's shoulder, "Ma'am. To avoid unnecessary panic and for the sake of an ongoing investigation, please inform your residents that there is a gas leak in the next building and that we're only taking routine precautions."

Kansaki nodded hesitantly, "... Alright."

With a grateful pat from Naomasa, Kansaki opened the thin wooden door and knelt beside the first cot.

"I'm sorry. You need to wake up, young lady," she shook the woman's arm.

"Hm-what? What's going on?" The woman croaked, sitting up on the cot.

More groggy sighs and stirring spread through the room.

Naomasa raised his hands in the dim light, "I'm Detective Tsukauchi. No one here is in any trouble. We need to evacuate this building for your own safety. Please gather your things and follow Officer Tamakawa - quickly and quietly - out through the lobby. We have transport to take you to a nearby warming center."

Kansaki quietly gathered up the young woman's things and passed it to her, "Don't worry about putting the cots away tonight. Just follow the police officers, please. There's… There's a bit of a gas leak next door. We just need to relocate until it's all cleared up. Come along."

"Thank you," Naomasa murmured to Kansaki before holding the door open for the first civilians.

"This way," Sansa called softly, leading the way to the lobby, "We're going outside, across the street, and making a left. This way, thank you."

Naomasa counted each passing through the door while Kansaki helped the oldest few shrug on their coats. She ushered them out the door with a last look around the room.

"That's everyone," she said.

Sansa threw him a thumbs up from the lobby as the last civilian stepped safely outside.

"Are there stairs to the basement?" Naomasa asked.

"Stairs are just here," Kansaki pointed across the hall, "I'll get the lights."

"Keep them off," Naomasa cautioned, glancing at the dark half-sphere camera mounted on the ceiling of the stairwell, "Do you know if anyone else has access to the security feeds?"

Kansaki scoffed uncomfortably, "That's just for show. We couldn't afford real security cameras. Prop cameras work well enough to discourage most troublemakers." Her keys jangled in her hand, and she unlocked the heavy basement door. With a quiet grunt, she pushed it open, "Just in here."

Naomasa nodded, pausing briefly in the doorway. It was an older model, but definitely a high security, quirk-suppressant door.

The stairwell opened up into the basement rehab - a single, wide room with plain, tan walls. A rolling divider split the space in half and curtains hung from the ceiling around each small cot. It was quiet. Only the barest whispers of a few patients and the creak of a cot as someone shifted in their sleep broke the silence.

"Do _not_ scare them," Kansaki warned softly and moved to the women's side, "It's time to wake up, ladies. I'm sorry -"

The woman nearest Kansaki slurred a sleepy question.

"No, it's alright. There's just a gas leak next door," Kansaki pet her shoulder soothingly, "We're heading down the street until things are cleared. Let's go."

Naomasa remained at the open stairwell door, examining the room. A pair of double doors drew his attention to the far side of the rehab. Paper signs were taped to each door's front. **Private - No Entry** they read in bold black letters. The two, thin windows inlaid in the doors were painted over in black from the other side.

There were no other doors or windows to the rest of the basement.

 _That'll be their front exit then._

"Why the Hell are the cops here?"

" _Yuuga_ ," Kansaki steadied the trembling young man, "He's here because there was a gas leak. You aren't in trouble. Everyone just has to go down the street for a bit. Isn't that right?"

Naomasa raised his hands placatingly, "This is a precautionary evacuation for your own safety. Nothing more. Exit this way, please."

He moved into the stairwell, relieved to hear Kansaki ushering the fourteen patients after him.

His earpiece crackled to life.

"The warming center guests are all loaded up," Sansa called over the set.

"I'm coming up with the remaining civilians now," Naomasa replied, holding the door open as they each shuffled into the hall, "Exit through the front door. My partner is outside and will guide you to the safe point."

Kansaki closed the stairwell door behind the last patient and ushered them to the lobby.

"Zip up your coats. It's cold out," she said, opening the door. A rush of cold air swept into room, rustling the old magazines and help pamphlets.

"They're on their way out," Naomasa murmured over his headset.

"I see them," Sansa replied, waving and beckoning to the group from across the street.

As the last of the patients filed out, Kansaki glanced back at Naomasa.

"I…" She sighed, "Good luck with that gas leak, detective."

"Thank you for your help, Ma'am," Naomasa inclined his head in a small bow.

Kansaki waved off the gesture with an overwhelmed sigh and let the door swing shut behind her.

Yavin Central Clinic fell silent.

Naomasa took a few slow breaths and watched Sansa lead the last of the civilians around the street corner.

"Building's clear," Naomasa announced, "Raid Teams A and B get into position. Heroes, you're up."

* * *

The office basement was a mess of forgotten, obsolete computers and boxes upon boxes of water-damaged documents. The humid stink of mold and mildew hung heavy in the cold air, cut only by the sharp smell of rusting metal pipes and plaster. Toshinori's nose wrinkled at the stench as he hauled another pile of soggy cardboard boxes to the side, exposing the water-stained drywall.

Aizawa knelt, pulling a serrated knife from his belt, and made quick work of cutting away a sizable chunk.

"Here?" he asked, brushing dust from the cinder block foundation.

Power Loader knelt beside him and scratched at the grout, iron claws scraping -

 _Scritch scritch -_

Toshinori dropped the pile of cardboard boxes with the others. A sickening flush of goosebumps washed over his skin, and he grimaced at the sudden phantom ache in his claws.

"Yagi." Aizawa's even-toned warning sliced through the rising fog.

Toshinori scrubbed his gloved hands on his pants, claws tingling to the quick.

 _Now's not the time, All Might._ With a firm shake of his head, Toshinori shoved the memories of sitting and scratching and _scratching_ at that damn tile wall back into the fog. _Not when people are depending on you._

He turned and crossed to the fresh hole in the wall, crouching beside Power Loader.

"This is the spot?" he asked with a grin, acutely aware of Aizawa's probing look and pointedly avoiding it.

"This is it," Power Loader pressed a softly beeping sensor to the cinder blocks, "The space on the other side of this wall is small. Probably an old supply closet. Chances of anyone being in there waiting for you is slim to none."

The Excavation Hero stuck an industrial looking device to the center of the exposed cinder blocks and etched a wide circle around it. Large enough to crawl through.

"Now, this won't be silent," he warned, unclipping a small metal remote from his belt, "But fortunately, this part of Hosu is prone to power surges and outages."

Their earpieces crackled and Naomasa called out, "Heroes, you're up."

Power Loader grinned wide beneath his mask and hit the switch. There was a distant _bang!_ , and Toshinori's vision dropped to shades of gray.

Seconds later, something at the back of the office basement clicked loudly and began to whir.

The lights flickered dimly as Power Loader quickly activated the device on the wall. It whirred loud and in sync with the backup power generators.

"Digging and busting through walls isn't always stealthy," Power Loader snickered, pressing the device on the wall deeper in as the cinder block crumbled to dust onto the floor, "But that doesn't mean you can't disguise it."

Toshinori's brows rose and tail swayed, "Clever, Power Loader!"

"How long until it breaks through?" Aizawa asked, tilting back his head and blinking away eye drops before securing his goggles.

"Not long now," Power Loader scooped out the piling dust and brushed it away. The device hit dirt, then screeched - sparks flying and fizzling out. Small, uniform fragments of dull grey metal fell into the growing pile of debris before the machine clicked and dumped more cinder block dust. "That lining wasn't very thick."

Soon after, the whir petered out to a whine and ground to a stop.

Power Loader reached through the meter-wide hole and plucked the device from inside, "I'll leave the drywall to you, Eraser. Good luck, you two."

"Thanks." Aizawa crouched and crawled into the hole while Toshinori dropped to all fours. Pausing at the end of the short tunnel, Aizawa pressed his ear to the last layer of drywall, then slipped his knife through. He cut chunks from the wall, quietly passing the debris back through before slipping into the dark space beyond.

"Clear," he murmured, his voice echoing back through Toshinori's headset.

With a flash of a grin and a thumbs up to Power Loader, Toshinori slipped through the tunnel.

"Minks are in the rat den," Power Loader murmured over the headset.

"All teams in position a-d on sta-d-y."

The signal cut in and out as Toshinori slunk farther in, and the hum of the backup generator quieted. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the dark, the walls fading to gray.

Aizawa was already on his feet when Toshinori squeezed into the closet space, finger held to his lips.

"Ouch! Goddamn - I told you these things were going to bust," came a muffled grumble from the other side of the door, "We should've got a gas one. This battery is done."

"Quit complaining and charge it then," huffed a second, gruffer voice.

"I would if the runt would hold the damn _flashlight_ steady," the first snapped.

Aizawa slowly twisted the doorknob, opening it a crack and nodding to it.

Toshinori pressed close to the wall and peeked into the next room.

Three villains were bent over an emergency generator: a bulky, middle aged man, a fox faced woman with sparks running down her fingertips and into the generator's battery, and a put-out young man holding the flashlight. There was no one else in the room.

Toshinori held up three fingers.

Aizawa nodded and loosened his capture weapon, fabric slipping silently over his shoulders. His grip on the doorknob tightened.

Toshinori leaned back against his haunches, clawed feet bracing.

Flinging the door open, Aizawa's hair floated upward and eyes flashed red. Toshinori exploded out of the closet and collided into the largest of the three, twisted, and slammed him to the ground - knocking him out cold.

"What the -! _Mmph!_ "

Aizawa's capture weapon wrapped tight around the remaining two villains' mouths. He yanked roughly at the leads, smacking their heads together with a dull _thunk_ , and they crumpled to the floor.

"Restrain yours," Aizawa said, tossing a pair of cuffs to Toshinori.

"Out through the hole?" Toshinori suggested, cuffing and lifting the bulky man by the shirt collar.

Aizawa nodded once, hauling the two smaller villains into the closet.

"Power Loader. Three villains subdued. Keep an eye on them," he called quietly and passed each villain through.

Toshinori watched the door, "Whoever else is down here will wonder why the generators aren't running. We may have minutes before they figure something's off."

Aizawa stood, "Then we make good on the time we have." He reached into his utility belt and tossed a spiked metal ball into the generator. With a bright spark and a _snap!,_ a fist-sized hole appeared in the melted casing, "Now we keep the upper hand."

Toshinori grinned, pupils flashing a faint blue in the dark.

A hall ran beside the generator room, empty except for a couple rolling carts shoved out of the way. Toshinori slunk through the doorway, low to the ground, ears pricked and twitching. Distant conversation and laughter hovered in the air, but came no closer.

"Two rooms looked large enough to hold ten people," he said under his breath, glancing back as Aizawa joined him in the hall, "Maybe a few submersion tanks like the ones found in the Kamino warehouse. If the Doctor is using them on the abductees -"

Toshinori froze, hackles bristling, and he pressed his tail against the side of Aizawa's leg.

He'd just heard…

There it was again! A sniffle and a muffled sob.

"Eraser-"

"I heard it," Aizawa jogged at Toshinori's side to the door at the end of the hall.

Toshinori stood and tried the knob. He cursed softly, "Locked."

"Keep a look out." Aizawa knelt, holding a small flashlight in his mouth. He fished his lock picks from his belt and slid them into the deadbolt keyhole.

Eyes fixed on the opposite end of the hall, Toshinori tensed at each tiny tick and tap of the picks.

The faded marks around his wrists itched.

 _We'll get you out. Almost there._

"Got it," Aizawa grunted softly as the deadbolt clicked and turned. Standing, he quickly tucked the tools away and cracked open the door.

Toshinori's hackles rose and he grimaced furiously, "Holy shit."

Sweat and the strong smell of antiseptic wafted from the open door. Chains shifted and rattled quietly, sending a chill up Toshinori's spine.

Someone gasped and whimpered inside.

Aizawa ran his tiny flashlight along the gap in the door, "No tripwires. It's clear."

Toshinori rushed into the room and knelt in front of the sobbing woman. She gasped and jerked away, yanking on her handcuffed wrist.

"Shh shh shh," Toshinori held up his hands, "I'm h- I'm a hero. We're here to get you out. What's your name?"

The woman hiccuped a relieved sob and grabbed onto his tactical vest, clinging.

"It's alright now," Toshinori rubbed her back, glancing around the room.

Over a dozen men and women were crammed together on the long bench running across the back wall and handcuffed to a bar above them. Heads hung low, they barely reacted to Aizawa as he checked their pulses and eyes.

"They're drugged," Aizawa lifted one young man's arm. Dark lines stained his veins and small bruises dotted his skin, a history of injections and IVs written in flesh.

"They -" the woman shuddered in Toshinori's arms.

Toshinori leaned back and brushed the woman's hair from her face.

"They said they'd _help_. I can't - I can't remember!" She sobbed, tugging on her chaffed wrist, "I want out. Please! I just want to g-go home."

"That's what we're here for…" Toshinori said, catching Aizawa's eye and gesturing to her cuffed wrist.

"Kyoko," she whispered.

Aizawa moved behind Toshinori and hummed. He pulled a small key from his pocket and with a twist, Kyoko's handcuff clicked and swung open.

"Kyoko," Toshinori rubbed her back as she wrapped both arms around him, "I'm going to ask you to be brave. We're going to get you out. There are police and ambulances waiting outside. But we need to make sure it's safe to move you first. Do you know how many villains are here?"

Kyoko shook her head, "I don't - I - Only a few come in here, but I can hear more talking outside."

"You're doing great," Toshinori murmured softly as Aizawa moved to check the unconscious man beside her. "Do you know if there are any others trapped here?"

Pressing her face into the crook of Toshinori's neck, Kyoko covered her mouth, "They took my brother and haven't - they haven't brought him b-back."

"Shh." Aizawa suddenly stilled.

Footsteps.

 _Shit! The hall!_

"Alright. Which one of you shits melted the generator?" A loud, gruff voice yelled and the large silhouette of a man stepped into the open doorway, "Wait, you're not -! There are heroes here!"

"Damn it!" Aizawa spat, throwing his capture weapon wide. The lead caught around the man's middle, and Aizawa leapt, grabbed the man's hair, and yanked his head down. His knee swung up and slammed into the man's face, knocking him to the ground with a bloodied nose.

Distant shouts rang down the hall.

Kyoko seized, arms locking around Toshinori's neck, "D-don't go! Don't - Don't leave me here!"

"Close your eyes!" Aizawa warned, tossing something into the hall.

Toshinori shielded Kyoko's face and shut his eyes tight.

 _Bang!_ A bright light flashed against his eyelids, followed by surprised and angry yells.

"Take her to Power Loader and order in the extraction team," Aizawa called as the flashbang faded, hair floating and eyes shining red, "I'll hold them off in the meantime." And he raced down the hall.

"I'm taking you to another hero," Toshinori scooped Kyoko into his arms and carried her from the room, "We'll keep the villains away so the police can get everyone else. It's going to be alright."

Kyoko nodded against his neck.

Toshinori ran into the generator room and ducked into the closet, "Power Loader! Send in the extraction team! We found civilians. I'm sending one through now." He gently lowered Kyoko to the floor in front of the short tunnel, "Hurry through there. My friend is on the other side."

"Thank you," Kyoko cried softly, planting a relieved kiss to Toshinori's golden visor, and crawled through the hole.

"Extraction team is coming down," Power Loader said as he helped Kyoko out the other side, "Just keep the villains back!"

"Understood!" Toshinori called back. He turned on his heel and thundered into the hall, tail whipping behind him.

Three villains were unconscious at Aizawa's feet and another struggled against the leads wrapped around his wrists.

"I've got this one," Aizawa grunted, yanking the villain down and pinning him to the floor, "Get the runner!"

Toshinori leapt over Aizawa and raced down the hall after the fleeing, yelling man. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and his abdomen burned. Gut clenching, he opened his mouth. Acid sprayed from under his tongue. It splashed against the runner's shoes and across the floor. The man slipped with a yelp, and Toshinori pinned him to the ground.

"Stay down," he warned and cuffed the trembling man to a pipe on the wall. Pulling off and tossing the man's quickly melting shoes, Toshinori called to Aizawa, "This one's done."

Aizawa's hair fell around his shoulders, and he tipped back his head, squeezing drops into his eyes and blinking uncomfortably.

"I was expecting more than common thugs here," he said lowly.

"So did I…" Toshinori murmured, watching the end of the hall as Aizawa pointed the first extraction officers toward the drugged civilians.

"Raid Team A engaging hostiles. Keep pushing them, heroes!" Naomasa called over the headset.

"Will do," Toshinori called back. Distant yells echoed through the walls, and Toshinori kept his ears perked. Alert. "Eraserhead, how's the evac?"

"Still in progress," Aizawa said, "See anything down there?"

"Nothing so f-" Toshinori's hackles stood on end, fog shifting behind his eyes. _What?_

An ear-splitting scream sliced through the air and cut off with a distant crunch. A second, inhuman screech sent a spike of cold nausea through his gut, and his hackles grew rigid.

 _Noumu._

"Eraserhead!" Toshinori warned, bracing as something crashed and cracked loudly just on the other side of the wall. "Shit!" He lunged at Aizawa and pinned him to the ground, only just avoiding the fist bursting through the drywall.

The noumu roared and its arm squirmed and shrunk, slipping back through the hole in the hallway wall.

"Heteromorph quirks," Toshinori growled as the wall dented outward with a loud thud.

Aizawa nodded with a grunt and rolled to his feet, "I'll speed up the evac. Make it quick."

Toshinori barked a startled laugh and grinned, "I'll take that as a vote of confidence!"

The wall cracked and crumbled forward. From the cloud of dust and chunks of wood and drywall, a dripping wet noumu stumbled into the hall. Its arms dragged over the rubble, too long and limp. Its gray chest heaved and tongue lolled out of a gaping, too wide mouth. The noumu slowly turned. Empty eyes set into its exposed brain rolled and fixed on Toshinori.

The noumu shuddered and loosed an outraged screech.

 _Yikes._ Toshinori bounced up, planted his feet against the opposite wall, and rocketed off. Slamming into the noumu, he tackled it back through the crumbling hole. The noumu tumbled to the floor. Fold-out tables and chairs tipped and scattered in its wake.

Toshinori rolled and leapt away. Tail swinging wide, he dug his claws into the cheap wood of his table perch, "Over here, noumu!"

Wheezing, the noumu staggered to its feet and grabbed the leg of a fold-out table. The noumu's arms stretched and swelled, skin rippling over its engorged shoulders and back.

 _Muscle augmentation?_ Toshinori thought, then braced.

With a roar, the noumu lifted and flung the table.

Toshinori barely ducked in time, brows jumping as the table shattered against the far wall, raining splinters across the floor. _And strength?_

The noumu lunged forward, arms swinging and fists slamming down.

Toshinori dodged back -

One arm suddenly lengthened and clipped his shoulder.

 _Shit._ Toshinori grunted with a wince and reared up. Gut burning, he spat acid on the stretched, disfigured arms and grimaced at the burst of rancid smoke.

The noumu screeched, arms shriveling down. Its acid-sprayed skin bubbled and twitched. Flat teeth bared, it roared furiously and charged.

Toshinori's skin prickled down his spine, mane standing on end. He pivoted. His tail sliced through the air, whipped outward, and struck the noumu. Wet heat gushed across his rigid tuft, staining it black in the dark.

The noumu stumbled back with a pained screech, flailing its bloodied, smoking arms.

Toshinori crouched and leapt. Twisting midair, he landed on its back. Claws dug into squirming flesh and tail wrapped tight around its neck. He kicked down the noumu's legs, claws raking its skin.

"Lay down," Toshinori tightened his grip as the noumu bellowed and pulled at his tail. With a pained grunt, he jammed his feet against the back of its knees, "You're done. Lay _down._ "

Wheezing, the noumu stumbled forward. Its eyes slowly rolled back. Its knees buckled, and it crumpled to the floor.

"There you go." Toshinori panted. Climbing off the noumu, he unravelled his tail from its neck. A twinge of pity twisted in his chest when it shuddered and stilled, "Just sleep it off. I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner…"

"Hey," Aizawa carefully stepped over the debris, toppled tables, and chairs. His gaze fell briefly on the noumu, "You alright, Yagi?"

Toshinori straightened with a grunt and rolled his bruised shoulder, "Yeah, just a little out of fighting shape." He bent and pulled the noumu's arms together, cuffing the shrunken wrists, "How are the civilians?"

"Extracted safely," Aizawa said, glancing around the wrecked break room, "Team A is stopping all runners in the basement level. They haven't seen the abductees taken through the front."

Toshinori tapped the side of his visor, "Raid Team B, do you copy?"

"I hear you," Wright's voice crackled softly over the feed.

"There's at least one activated noumu down here," Toshinori said, nudging the noumu onto its back. Relief flooded him, "It doesn't appear to be any of our abductees. Prepare an Iron Maiden for transport."

"Copy that."

"Yagi…" Aizawa's voice drifted from across the room.

A pale green light bled in from a gaping hole in the far wall and reflected off the water pooling on the floor. It rippled as Toshinori stepped carefully into the large room, scattering light across the walls and ceiling.

"It's like Tiger's report," Aizawa said, inspecting one of three large submersion tanks.

The water glowed a soft green, the tank powered by separate generators. Two noumu floated inside the intact tanks, brains exposed and bodies warped. One appeared to have an aquatic heteromorph quirk, gills and large silver scales, while the other was covered in patches of granite.

The third tank was smashed open, still spilling warm water. Opposite it, a bulky man lay slumped against the wall. His bony plate armor was cracked down his arms.

"That explains why the noumu was soaking wet. Must have woke up in a foul mood and smashed its way out," Toshinori checked the injured villain's pulse, and after finding it, cuffed him, "Not that I blame it. I would too."

"It looks like there were four more tanks," Aizawa crouched down and held up one of the many tubes laying on the floor, identical to those attached to the other tanks.

Toshinori hummed, "They'll be moving out the back." He tapped his visor, "Wright. Second large room is cleared. Two noumu submersion tanks are still here. No sign of the abductees. They may be moving them as well as four submersion tanks. Most likely headed your way through the service elevator. We'll keep flushing them out."

"We'll keep a sharp eye," Wright replied.

"Copy th- …" Toshinori paused and shared a look with Aizawa, "No one's come through the rear of the building yet?"

"Nothing on our side, no."

"Something's off," Aizawa echoed Toshinori's thought, jogging out of the room.

Toshinori darted after him, tapping his visor, "Tsukauchi, how many have come out your way?"

"Less than a dozen," Naomasa called back.

"Shit!" Toshinori spat, dropped to all fours, and raced ahead, "There's a third exit! Eraserhead and I are sweeping the north side. South side is clear."

A knife wielding woman ran out of a room ahead, then froze, staring at the knife in confusion. Toshinori rushed past, tail sweeping her legs, and knocked her to the ground.

Aizawa kicked the knife away and pressed his knee into the woman's back, pulling out a pair of cuffs, "Keep going! I'm right behind you."

Toshinori streaked ahead, barreling through three more thugs and knocking them to the ground. He slammed through a pair of double doors -

 _BANG!_ The gunshot rang in Toshinori's ears, and he lunged at the armed guard. Getting in close, he grabbed the man's arm, yanked it down and away, and smashed his fist into the guard's throat.

The guard dropped the gun with a choked cough, eyes wide staring up at Toshinori, and Toshinori slammed him into the floor.

"Where did they take them!?" Toshinori demanded, acid burning in his chest.

The guard wheezed defiantly, but glanced at a section of new tile in the floor just in front of the service elevator.

Toshinori flipped the man over and cuffed him.

"Eraser! Armed guard down!" He shouted back down the hall, spotting the bullet hole in the wall beside the door frame, "There's a way out under a false floor! I'm going in!" He tapped his visor and ripped the false floor open, staring down the ramp into a carved out tunnel, "Power Loader! Track my signal. We're cutting them off."

"I'm on my way!" Power Loader answered.

Toshinori dove into the tunnel, claws tearing into the stone floor. Strings of construction lights hung along the walls, the light gleaming off a trail of water and footprints.

 _A leaking submersion tank,_ he realized.

Toshinori thundered through the tunnel, deeper and farther from the clinic. He passed offshoots and carved out rooms, catching flashes of boxes, computers, cages, weapons cases -

The path curved, and he spotted the escaping group. Four submersion tanks. A dozen hostiles. Two armed. Three guarding five blindfolded civilians.

Toshinori's tail whipped up, slicing through the string of lights and plunging the section of tunnel into darkness.

"Ah!"

"What!?"

"Calm down and -!"

Toshinori grabbed the leader by her jacket and flung her into the two armed guards. They fell with a shout and their guns clattered to the floor. He kicked the guns away and pivoted, tail whipping around and slamming into two more thugs.

"Don't let him near the tanks!" someone snarled.

The floor rippled under Toshinori's feet, slick and clinging. He jumped and landed on the wall, gloves sticking.

 _There._ He spotted the mole-quirk woman with her hands pressed to the rippling floor. Pushing off the wall, he dropped onto the woman and knocked her out. The floor returned to normal.

"Who is he!? Ah!"

Grinning fiercely, Toshinori wrapped his tail around the stout man's leg and flung him into the wall.

Metal glinted in the air as a villain in the front of the group lunged forward, arms shifting to blades. Toshinori dropped under the arms and struck his gut and groin. The villain doubled over with a wheeze, and Toshinori flipped him onto the floor, knocking the rest of the air out of him.

"Damn it!" The scrawny one pushed through the civilians and, fumbling, pulled a lever on the leaking tank.

One of the civilian guards gasped, "No! You idiot!"

 _Shit!_ Toshinori leapt and kicked the man away from the tank - Too late.

Water rushed from the base of the tank, pouring out onto the floor and down the tunnel. The huge noumu inside twitched, swollen muscle tensed under patchy fur, feathers, and scales. Its chest glowed orange from the inside out, light traveling up behind its ribs and into its throat and muzzled maw.

A fire breather.

"Get him!" the scrawny one sputtered on the floor, pointing at Toshinori, "Get him!"

The noumu growled, shaking its head, and pounded on the tank glass.

"I said get him!" the villain screeched as Toshinori rushed to the abandoned civilians - their guards already booking it down the tunnel.

Toshinori pulled off their blindfolds and urged them back toward the clinic, "I'm a hero. You need to run that way. Follow the water trail back. Another hero is waiting for you -" Glass crashed behind him - "Go!"

Toshinori spun, bracing as the noumu pushed itself out of the tank.

The noumu shuddered, teeth bared as it ripped off its muzzle and panted fiery breaths.

"Yeah! Burn him! Wh- No! The fucking hero!" The scrawny man scrambled back, eyes wide as the noumu snarled at him.

 _No!_

"Hey!" Toshinori shouted, driving a foot into the noumu's lower back, and hopped away, "Over here big guy!"

Four eyes swiveled in their sockets and fixed down on Toshinori.

 _Very big guy,_ Toshinori grinned wider, hackles going rigid.

The noumu loosed an enraged roar, fire spilling over its tongue -

And the roof collapsed with a loud, shattering _BOOM!_

Street light spilled in from above and Power Loader, seated in his excavation suit, looked down from the surface.

"Yagi!" He called, "You alright down there?"

Toshinori stared at the wheezing, unconscious noumu pinned under the street rubble and the scrawny villain whimpering and curled against the tunnel wall. He laughed breathlessly, hackles relaxing, and gave Power Loader a thumbs up, "Yeah! I'm alright. You saved my hide there!"

Ropes unraveled into the tunnel and members of Raid Team B rappelled down. The scrawny man was swiftly cuffed and transported to the surface.

Toshinori pointed behind himself, "Eraserhead is headed this way. Five civilians were with this group, but I sent them back toward the clinic. The three guarding them fled further down the tunnel."

"We'll sweep the area. Good work, Yagi," one of the officers said with a wide grin and patted Toshinori's shoulder.

Naomasa's voice rang over the earpiece, "Clinic secure! Raid Team A will join the tunnel sweep."

Toshinori sighed in relief, resting his hands on his hips, and _finally_ caught his breath.

Everything ached. His shoulder throbbed where the first noumu struck him, and his chest burned with residual acid. Sweat clung to his hair and down his back.

 _We're not done yet._ Toshinori popped his back with a grunt and waved to Aizawa as he jogged toward him.

"I ran into those civilians. They're with the extraction team now," Aizawa said.

Toshinori nodded, "Good. Good."

Aizawa frowned, scanning the tunnel system, "None of them were the abductees."

"I know," Toshinori murmured, a jittery unease settling heavy and square in his gut. "But the tunnels are fairly expansive… They could still be down here."

Aizawa hummed neutrally. Then he sighed, running fingers through his hair, "We better get looking."

"Yeah."

* * *

"Runner! Runner!" The young officer waved Toshinori over and pointed down the tunnel, "Just took a right!"

Toshinori bounded after the runner, kicked off a wall, and tackled him to the ground.

"Got him! Hey now, quit squirming," Toshinori held him firmly down as the officer caught up.

"Man, you're fast," the officer huffed, cuffing the squirming man.

"And you have good eyes," Toshinori said, standing and handing the man to the officer, "Keep up the good work."

With another runner in custody, that made thirty-one total villains in the clinic and tunnel system beneath.

Toshinori rolled his shoulder with a soft grunt. It was bruised, but not dislocated. And it could wait.

"We found another dead end," Naomasa called over the headset, a heavy breath betraying his exhaustion, "That's another section clear. How are things on your end, Yagi?"

"We caught a few stragglers," he said, stalking through another branching tunnel. Ears perked, he checked the first carved out room. More crates.

Taking a nearby crowbar propped against the wall, Toshinori pried off the top of one crate and brushed aside the packing foam.

"I found more black market gear," he said, picking through the mixed bag of body armor and utility belts, "It looks like this is where the gangs in the area are buying their supplies. Ryukyu will be thrilled by the find, I'm sure."

He set the crowbar down and rubbed the back of his neck, massaging the tension on either side of his short spikes, "How are the rescued civilians?"

"The group you and Eraserhead found in the clinic made it to the hospital to detox and get fluids in them. The five you found in the tunnel were all medically trained hostages. They claim they were forced to monitor the noumu in the tanks under threats of violence. We'll take them in to get more information."

"It sounds like they were in the same situation as Isamu," Toshinori said. He gave the small room a last look before heading back into the carved hall.

"It does. Fortunately that means we have a line of questioning we can follow. We'll see how many similarities there are between noumu production sites. The more we know, the better." Naomasa paused, "Any sign of the abductees?"

"Not yet." Toshinori crouched as he wandered down a smaller tunnel, "But there are still areas we haven't searched."

His tail twitched and curled uneasily.

There were only so many rooms left. They should have found the abductees already.

"I found another drug storeroom," Aizawa interjected, voice crackling over the headset, "More knock-off Trigger, opioids, methamphetamines, and cocaine. It's possible the Doctor is profiting off the gangs of Hosu."

Toshinori frowned, "And using the addicts he helps create to make more noumu."

The tunnel sloped slowly downward and ended in a closed vault doorway -

Wait.

Toshinori paused, brows furrowing. A line of faint light leaked into the tunnel, stretching across the floor.

The large metal door was just barely open.

"I found another room," Toshinori said, ears perked, brushing his fingers over the vault door. It was thick with a five-spoke hand wheel at its center. And heavy, if the gouge marks along the floor were any indication. A camera was fixed on the outside, pointing down at him. "It's higher security than the others, but it was left open."

"Abandoned during the raid, most likely," Aizawa commented, "Be careful regardless."

Toshinori checked along the open space and hinge. No triplines or traps.

He cautiously pulled the vault door open, letting the light from the single computer on a lone desk flood into the tunnel beyond.

Toshinori's brows pinched in confusion, murmuring, "Just a computer?"

Then came a familiar smell. Spoiled sweat, sick, rubbing alcohol, latex - _Scratching at the wall, pacing, chains rattling -_

The rattling of chains shifted, and someone wheezed.

Toshinori shuddered, chills racing up his spine. Fog swirled heavy behind his eyes. Heart thundering, Toshinori's gaze fixed on the back of the room.

* * *

 _Police! Police are coming!_ The words vibrated on the floor, grains of sand shivering with excitement across the tiles.

"Taeka!" Mirai knocked rapidly on the wall of her cell, heart pounding, "Wake up! _Souma, look!"_

Souma knelt beside her and ran a hand through his short, auburn hair, _"I knew it. Knew they'd find us."_

Mirai sagged drunkenly back against the side of her cot, smiling as she listened to Nozomi read the sand for Taeka.

"They're coming to save us?" Chris asked, voice pinched and wavering. He pressed his broad hands to the wall, trembling, "Are they really?"

"Yeah. Yeah. They're coming to save us. All of us," Mirai laughed, closing her eyes, "We're going home."

 _Then they'll fix us. Everything will go back to normal._

Souma knocked softly beside her.

Mirai sat up, _"Yeah?"_

 _"Your quirk. Can you see them coming in?"_ Souma asked, hands close to his chest and lips pursed.

Uncertainty dropped like ice into Mirai's chest, _"... Why?"_

Souma rubbed his hands against his thighs and heaved a trembling puff of steam, _"I just need to know they're really going to come."_

 _What if -_ Mirai swallowed roughly. If she didn't see them… What then? What could she tell them?

 _"Please, Mirai."_ Souma pleaded, scaled brow pinched, _"I'd rather know now."_

Biting her lip, Mirai nodded slowly and closed her eyes.

Vertigo _yanked_ at the base of her skull as she watched speeding images from over her own shoulder. She pulled back, slowing the images down, and hissed at the migraine that immediately flared behind her eyes.

Her future self hugged herself and nodded.

She bent over the sand.

Sat back up.

Shifted in a blur.

Stood.

Mirai's head throbbed.

The door opened.

Two officers stepped inside -

Mirai opened her eyes with a gasp and hugged herself. Tears pricked her eyes, and she nodded, grinning despite her splitting headache.

 _"Yes. I saw them."_

Souma sagged back against his tub and sent the water sloshing, _"Thank you."_

At Mirai's feet, the sand whipped up and reshaped, and she bent to read the words.

 _Shin'ya is really tired, but said they were down the hall!_

"The sand says they're down the hall," Mirai called, sitting up so Souma could read it for himself.

"Hello! In here!" Nozomi called, pink and bright blue dots blooming across her skin, "We're in here!"

"Heeeey! H-" Chris winced. His voice cracked as he curled on his abdomen.

Taeka pressed a paw against his cell, "Hey, it's okay. Rest up." Her wings - nearly the length of her body and covered in golden brown and gray speckled adult feathers - shuddered and tucked tighter. She breathed slowly out, "It's… it's hard. I know. But they'll be here soon. They'll -"

The doorknob clicked.

Mirai stumbled to her feet, "Yes! We're in here! We're - Oh, thank god."

A nurse pushed the door open wide, waving two patrol officers inside the room.

"Well, when Jedha Central updated the north wing, they opted to build a new morgue rather than tear down the old one for renovations," the nurse explained casually, stepping aside as the officers walked into the room, "As of right now, this wing is used for storage and emergency triage overflow. It got some use during the Kamino Ward incident, but not too much more since then."

"And who has access to this wing?" The taller of the two officers asked. Her eyes scanned the room and… passed right over Mirai.

"No. What?" Mirai's hands shook, and she pat the glass, "Hey, we're right here…"

The nurse shrugged his shoulders, "Most of the doctors and a couple of staff in charge of keeping track of medical supplies. And the cleaning company, but I don't think they clean around here much. Dust everywhere," he scuffed the toe of his shoe across the floor and through the thin line of sand.

"Hey! Stop - Stop messing around!" Chris shook and pounded on his cell door, "This isn't funny!"

The shorter officer brushed webbed fingers over his slimy, bald head, and poked around the back table, "You haven't seen anyone back here that shouldn't be here right?"

"They can't see us…" Taeka whispered, breath coming faster - too fast, "Why - Why can't they _see us!?_ We're right here!"

Nozomi covered her mouth, skin paling, and whispered, "In the hall -"

Looming large in the doorway, hunched and peering into the room, was the Doctor's noumu.

Mirai froze as it swayed directly behind the taller officer, "No…"

 _Mirai pressed her hand against the solid air at her side and pat along the invisible wall, fingers trembling._

 _The doctor walked in a wide arc around the bed, brushing his thick mustache as he examined her. Then he glanced back at the creature, "Drop the illusion."_

 _The creature twitched, and just like that thick glass walls appeared._

"No no no… _No!_ " Mirai kicked the glass door, "Fuck you! Fuck you - you - _son of a bitch…_ " She wheezed and furiously wiped tears from her eyes, "It has an illusion quirk. It… They can't see us. They can't - They don't know we're here…"

Gasping, Souma rushed forward and pounded on the door. Steam poured out of his mouth as he waved frantically at the amphibious officer standing barely an arm's length away.

"They can't -? But we're right here! Let us out!" Taeka clawed at the leather cuff on her ankle, then reached for her bucket and hit the door with it over and over - _Clang! Clang! Clang!_

"Please! Please, just - just see us! We're right here!" Taeka dropped the bucket as the officers turned back to the door.

"Next room?" the nurse asked with a polite smile.

"Don't leave us here!" Chris begged and coughed, clutching his middle, "Don't -!"

The taller officer nodded, passing the noumu without batting an eye, "I appreciate you helping us out."

"They can't hear us," Nozomi whispered. She sat heavily on her cot and pulled her long braid over her shoulder, fingers trembling.

Mirai gasped and dropped to her knees, patting the sand, "We have to tell the others. Maybe they can -"

The sand didn't move.

"What? Why isn't it -?" Mirai gathered the sand in a blank slate, frantically writing, _They can't see us. Can your sand touch them?_

The sand was still.

Breaths coming in panicked puffs, Mirai wiped the slate clean again, _Hello? Can you see this?_

Nothing.

The door shut with a dull clack.

Sand slowly slipped from between Mirai's trembling fingers as she stared at the closed door.

"What the _fuck?_ " Taeka's voice cracked, quiet. She shook her head, paw pressed to her abdomen. The feathers on her wings and fur down her back stood on end, and she slammed her claws against the door, "What the fuck!? Come back! Come… Come back…"

A shudder racked her, and she stumbled back, blinking rapidly as her pupils narrowed, "They left… they left…"

Chris crumpled on himself. He covered his face and bared his teeth in a sob, "They were right there… _right there._ We were going home. W-we were - _I want to see my mom._ "

"We're… We're going to be okay, Chris. They'll come back. Don't…" Nozomi covered her mouth, skin pale white and gaunt, "They don't know we're here…"

Chris cried, voice breaking, " _Mom!_ Get me out! _Please!_ "

Mirai's heart lodged in her throat as Chris sobbed and hid in his armored shell.

Light caught the small amber, blue, and green stones glittering in patches on his once leathery armor. And the armor - it looked… more like granite now.

 _No…_ Mirai pressed her hand hard over her mouth and nose, chest heaving with a dull, suffocating hiccup. Tears ran down her fingers and wrist as she held her breath. Drowning. _No..._

Souma knocked softly at the wall between them.

Mirai gasped, arms numb and trembling.

 _"Breathe."_ Souma signed, eyes dull, _"Breathe. We still have a plan."_

 _Fuck the plan!_ She wanted to scream. To yell and cry and - It was unfair! So fucking unfair.

Mirai nodded slowly, chest jerking with each half-aborted, angry sob.

"Okay…" she nodded again, head throbbing and lungs burning.

"Okay. We stick to the plan. I'll run."

* * *

Toshinori was back beneath Rishi. The stench of sick, long dried blood, and spoiled sweat clung to the walls. Heavy chains hung from the back wall. A pole and IV drip stood as a silent sentry, gleaming in the low light.

Fog coiled thick and suffocating. The walls of the tunnel were too close. Too constricting.

 _Out._ Toshinori's heart pounded, and his hands shook. _I need -_

A soft moan dragged Toshinori from the fog. Out of Rishi.

The man chained to the back wall of the vault wheezed, slumped forward over his lap. Iridescent bubbles slowly rose from his bare back and floated to the ceiling, gathering in an uneven cluster.

Cursing, Toshinori shook off the lingering fog and rushed forward, laying his hands on the young man's blue-ringed, bony shoulders.

"It's alright. We found you." Toshinori gently pushed him up, frowning at his feather-light weight. He wasn't one of the abductees. His face was too thin, covered in stubble, and his black hair was left unruly and overgrown. As haggard his appearance… He couldn't be much older than twenty-five.

Toshinori brushed aside the young man's sweat-soaked bangs, "It's al-"

He reared back. Cold shock twisted his gut.

Slowly, gently, he leaned the man against the wall.

"Shit." Toshinori sat heavily on the ground, pulling off his visor.

"Shit…" He tugged off his glove and tossed it to the ground. Running his hand down his face, he let out a slow breath and swallowed the rising nausea.

A harsh, knotted line of skin ran across the young man's forehead and down behind his ears. The scar was still inflamed and scabbed in places. His eyes roamed aimlessly, horizontal pupils unfocused. Vacant.

Toshinori kneaded his forehead, ears drooping. The fog settled heavily behind his eyes again. Cloying at his senses. Pulling.

He shuddered and sighed, forcing the fog back, and rocked to his feet.

"I'm sorry we came too late for you," he murmured, carefully unbuckling the simple leather shackles and laying the young man's hands in his lap.

Still no response.

 _Why were you left behind? They were taking the other noumu._ Toshinori frowned, lips a hard line. He brushed his hand over the young man's head, _What makes you different?_

Scanning the bare, concrete room, his attention narrowed to the lone computer desk. "And why would they lock a computer inside a vault?"

 _What more were they trying to hide?_

Tail giving a wary twitch, Toshinori pulled out the rolling chair and sat. The dimmed monitor lit up as he clicked the mouse. The desktop was bare aside from a few scattered programs and emptied folders.

"Maybe -" Toshinori clicked into Trash. His brows jumped as files upon files popped up, "Someone was in a hurry."

Restoring them, he settled forward and clicked through the veritable treasure trove of evidence. Supply orders, weapons schematics, drug production and supplies, black market contacts…

Patient Records.

A nauseating knot squirmed high in Toshinori's gut. He glanced back at the young man and clicked into the folder. At the top was the text document **Quirk Supply** and below it a list of folders: N-081, N-082, N-083_failed, N-084, N-085_deceased, N-086, N-087, N-088, and N-089.

 _Failed?_ Toshinori's hackles bristled. He opened the folder and played the first audio file.

There was a soft rustling. Harsh breathing. Then -

"N-083. Height: 170 centimeters. Quirk: Blue-Ring Octopus. Most noticeable trait is the blue ring patterns across his skin. Venom is delivered through a bite. Testing shows the venom is severely diluted. A shame. Fatal doses of tetrodotoxin would make him more valuable outright."

Toshinori's tail lashed, and his chest burned. _Valuable?_

The _Good Doctor - Tsubasa_ hummed in the recording, "It's possible the neurotoxins are recessive and could be strengthened with a little creative thinking and the right mutation. I've added Bubble Breath. We'll see if that at least gives the toxins range."

There was a soft rustle and a click as the next audio recording automatically played.

"N-083. Bubble Breath created an unexpected but interesting mutation. Rather than gaining the ability to breathe bubbles from the mouth, bubbles made of a toxic film form on the patient's skin. Prolonged, direct exposure causes nausea, respiratory arrest, muscle paralysis, and - without treatment - heart failure. Fortunately, Sensei was able to retrieve N-085's quirks before it passed. N-083 still lacks range. A gas-emitting quirk may work. I may be able to acquire something like that."

Dr. Tsubasa sighed heavily in the next track, "Mismanagement. It has been so _difficult_ to find good help. So little common sense. Can't follow a _simple_ rule -" His tongue clicked sharply, "N-083 imprinted on one of the nurses charged with its care. It's not unheard of during this developmental stage, but it is… irritating. This is why they are not allowed to _speak_ around the noumu. Passing control only lasts so long, and even then the imprinted noumu's drive to protect its new master is almost nonexistent unless directly ordered by the primary. Reprogramming is time consuming…"

A pen tapped. Once. Twice.

"I wonder…" Dr. Tsubasa murmured, "How long would an imprint last if the master is taken out of the picture?"

 _Stop listening,_ a small, tense voice whispered at the back of Toshinori's mind.

The next recording played.

"Curiosity got the better of me," Dr. Tsubasa said cheerfully, "I had the nurse killed. N-083 reacted as expected and killed the man responsible. With how it cradled the nurse in the end, if the wound wasn't fatal, its toxins would have eventually finished the job.

"Given time, it should forget. This may turn out to be a more efficient way to deal with accidental imprints. If I'm lucky. We will see."

 _You don't need to know this. Give it to evidence and leave it alone._ The knot tightened in Toshinori's gut, and his ears drooped. _The boy -_

"Killing the nurse was a mistake," Dr. Tsubasa growled, "N-083 refuses to eat. Refuses to drink. Refuses to imprint. Drugging it and forcing it through withdrawal hasn't aided its reprogramming. More quirks changed nothing. Sensei's voice couldn't reach it. It's no better than a sack of meat."

"Yagi."

His claws _dug_ into the table.

 _right voice_

His balance was

Where was the boy? Safe?

off.

 _right voice_

"I took a look inside, but its brain had nothing new to offer - no clues." Dr. Tsubasa sighed, breath grating in frustration, "The death of its master locked the imprint in place and caused it to remain on permanent standby. Unresponsive. What good is that? N-083 is a total waste. I've ordered it be kept alive until the quirks can be extracted. After it is culled, the quirks can be transferred to -"

The recording closed.

"Toshinori."

His heart beat too hard i n

hi s ch est .

There was a hand on his shoulder.

"Toshinori," Naomasa turned him from the computer screen.

"Oh," Toshinori let out a trembling breath. He came back to himself in slow increments. Rubbing his arms, he smoothed down the goosebumps rising across his skin. His fingers tingled numbly.

"Are you -?"

"I'm alright," Toshinori said immediately, holding up a hand. He ran his fingers through his hair and straightened, "I'm alright, Naomasa."

 _where is the_ _right voice?_

Clearing his throat roughly, Toshinori nodded to the computer, "It looks like Dr. Tsubasa left behind records of his experiments. As well as records of everything that went through this hideout."

"That's helpful," Aizawa drawled beside the young man - _N-083_. He brushed his fingers off on his suit after checking the man's pulse and rose with a grunt, "Here."

Toshinori caught his tossed visor.

"You took it off," Aizawa said and pointed to his ear, "We couldn't contact you."

"Ah," Toshinori turned the visor over in his hands pensively and slipped it back on, "My apologies."

Naomasa's radio crackled to life on his vest and echoed in Toshinori's ear.

"Southern tunnels are clear," Sansa called, crestfallen, "No sign of the abductees. Yori's forensic team is ready to take over."

Toshinori nodded.

The abductees weren't here. They had the wrong place.

"We still have work to do," Toshinori sighed, scrubbing the back of his head.

Tired. He was bone-deep tired.

And Naomasa's hand hadn't left his shoulder.

 _They heard._ His gut twisted in knots. _They know…_

Toshinori looked back at the young man. The Doctor's failed noumu.

 _That could have been me._ His claws brushed over the faded shackle scars on his wrists. _No. He's the same as me. The same as -_

Toshinori's hackles bristled in realization.

"We need to find the abductees before they imprint on the Doctor," he stood, giving Naomasa's arm a grateful squeeze as his hand slid from his shoulder, "They're already going through Hell. They don't deserve to be tied to that villain for the rest of their lives."

"We'll keep looking, Toshinori," Naomasa pat his back and bent, clicking through the computer, "The Doctor was creating more noumu here. There are bound to be leads to wherever he's keeping them. Yori and their forensic team will find whatever more he was hiding."

"Let them know to dismantle this magnet strip," Aizawa said from the vault door, feeling along the opening, "They took steps to destroy the files if the computer was removed."

Naomasa nodded, "I'll let them know. Toshinori?"

Toshinori picked up and pulled on his tossed glove, flexing his fingers under the thick material. Then, with a tired grunt, he knelt beside the young man.

"It's alright now," he murmured, carefully tucking him against his chest. He hooked his arm under the man's knees and lifted him.

Brows jumping in alarm, Naomasa cautioned, "The toxin -"

"I'm taking him up to the ambulance," Toshinori interrupted. He adjusted the man in his arms, avoiding directly touching his skin, and leaned away from the rising bubbles. "He doesn't need to be here anymore."

He was so light…

Hand dropping to his side, Naomasa nodded. He picked up his radio, "We're coming up with another… civilian. He's in bad shape and can't control his toxin quirk. Prepare a bus accordingly."

"Here," Aizawa tilted back his head, blinking as he put away his eye drops. His eyes flashed red, and his hair lifted from around his face.

The bubbles on the young man's bare skin popped, and no more formed.

"Thank you," Toshinori said, tail swaying low.

It was a long walk, climbing up to the surface. The raid teams were already out of the tunnels, replaced by a steady stream of Yori's forensic field techs. Cameras flashed as they photographed each labeled room, casting distorted shadows across the tunnel walls.

"There's a computer at the end of this branch," Naomasa told the lizard-faced Yori when they passed, "Eraserhead found a strong magnet strip in the doorway that will need to be removed before you take out the hard drive."

"We'll take care of it," they replied, waving a couple techs over and leading them to the vault.

Where Power Loader collapsed the roof, debris had been swept aside. The fire-breathing noumu had been collected and put in an Iron Maiden. A ramp was lowered in through the opening in the ceiling and fixed securely at the top.

Toshinori took it up a step at a time, claws clicking and gripping the grooved metal.

A cold breeze rushed past as Toshinori stepped onto the street. The young man shivered in his arms, and Toshinori held him close.

"You're out," he said, patting the man's back. _No more chains._

At the back of the lot, a medic waved him over to a parked ambulance, "Over here! We're ready for him."

Aizawa clicked his tongue, hunching into his capture weapon.

"Keep your visor on, Yagi," he nodded toward the line of police tape, eyes flashing red. A group of photographers walked the barrier, snapping photographs, and a young late evening reporter turned from her spot near the ambulance and gestured toward the line of police vans.

Toshinori's tail flicked as the reporter and camera turned to him, and he carefully covered the young man's face.

"Is this the last one?" the medic asked.

"Yes," Toshinori stepped up and into the ambulance, and laid the young man on the gurney, "Careful. The bubbles that come off his skin are toxic."

The medic nodded, fitting a mask over the young man's face, "We'll sedate him until we can get him set up in a specialized room."

Another medic tucked a blanket around the young man and waved at Aizawa, "Thank you, Eraserhead. You too, hero. We've got him from here."

Aizawa's hair fell around his shoulders. Grimacing, he blinked his bloodshot, tired eyes.

Stepping out of the ambulance, Toshinori shut the doors behind him. He watched as it pulled away from the lot and drove away.

 _We were too late to save him…_ Toshinori rubbed his fingers over the ache in his chest. _It was never_ just _the abductees. How many more are out there?_

"The rest of the hostages arrived safely at the hospital and are getting treated. Good… Good." Naomasa sighed, walking up to Toshinori's side. He pocketed his phone and ran a hand through his hair, "I don't know about you two, but I could go for a hot shower and a drink."

Aizawa grunted in agreement, sagging against the side of a police cruiser.

Huffing a laugh, Toshinori looked down at his suit. Drywall dust, dirt, and smears of blood clung to his new hero suit and the hair of his tail tuft. "I could go for a shower, yeah."

"My place is closer," Naomasa looked across the lot and the forensic techs filing down the hole in the back road. He glanced back at the gathered photographers and shot Toshinori a tired smile, "I'll drive."

* * *

Hot water streamed over Toshinori's bowed back, following the arch of his spine and soaking into his ridged mane. Steam rose around him, clinging to his scrubbed skin. The lingering suds dripped from his tail and pooled around his feet. He stared down at the shower floor, swishing his tail tuft in the pooling water, and watched the red tinged suds rinse down the drain.

Closing his eyes, Toshinori took a slow, rose-scented breath and shut off the water with a sigh.

"Aizawa, you're up," he said, stepping into the hall and toweling his hair dry.

Aizawa rose from Naomasa's couch with a grunt. He set aside his half-empty bottle of beer and held out an unopened second.

"Just tea for me," Toshinori grinned, draping his towel across his shoulders. He took the bottle and flicked his tail toward the bathroom, "Grab the hot water while it lasts."

Aizawa shrugged with a half-hidden smirk and headed back to the bathroom, shucking off his hero suit and tossing it into the washer in the linen closet on the way.

Toshinori slipped the bottle back into the fridge with a soft clatter, "Do you still have lavender chamomile, Naomasa?"

"Top left," Naomasa called from the couch, bent over a stack of paperwork.

"Thanks," Toshinori reached into the cabinet, rolling his shoulders when his damp ridged mane stuck to the inside of his undershirt.

The hush of the shower drifted down the hall, and the kettle on the stove rumbled slowly to a simmer.

"Reports came back from the patrol officers," Naomasa said, "The Heteromorph Emergency Care Center was cleared. As well as Jedha Central Hospital and Umbara Clinic. That narrows the s-" he yawned wide, "search down."

Toshinori shut off the stove with a fond smile. He poured the steaming water into an old coffee mug and watched the tea bag float to the top.

Stirring in honey as he walked, Toshinori snorted and plucked the legal pad from Naomasa's slack hands.

"H-hey!" Naomasa grabbed for it, huffing when Toshinori lifted it out of reach.

" _Overwork._ " Toshinori tutted in English, smiling. Setting the pad down on the coffee table, he sat beside Naomasa. His tail wormed its way between the couch and Naomasa's back, curling around his waist. Leaning back and stretching his legs, Toshinori sipped his tea and sagged into the cushions, "Know when to rest, Naomasa."

Naomasa laughed, "That's rich, coming from you." But he sank back into the couch, leaving his notes alone, and took a swig from his beer bottle. A pleasant pink flush spread across his cheeks, and he blinked slow and sleepy.

Toshinori chuckled softly, tapping his mug with a claw. Ripples drifted across the amber surface. Tiny bubbles gathered around the sinking tea bag.

"We'll need to save our strength for the next time," Toshinori murmured, closing his eyes and listening to the distant hush of the shower.

"Yeah." Naomasa nodded to himself, "We did a good job today."

"Mmhm…" Toshinori hummed.

"Hey," Naomasa gently elbowed Toshinori and gave him an earnest look, "We did a good job today. We saved people. _You_ saved those people."

Toshinori smiled ruefully, "Yeah."

 _But not all of them. Not yet._

"We shut down a black market hub, an active noumu site, and stopped Dr. Tsubasa from using any more of those people," Naomasa continued, patting Toshinori's tail with each accomplishment, "Not a bad night."

"Not a bad night..." Toshinori conceded with a sigh and gave Naomasa a soft squeeze with his tail, "Thank you, Nao."

Naomasa looked at him for a moment, something unsaid in his faint frown. Then he nodded and leaned his shoulder against Toshinori's, fingers brushing absently through the hair on his tail.

The hiss of the shower cut off with a metallic _squeak_ , and Toshinori looked up from his tea.

Down the hall, the bathroom door opened. Aizawa stepped out in a damp baseball t-shirt and sweatpants, scrubbing his hair with a towel.

"Thanks for the clothes, Tsukauchi," he murmured, tossing the towel in the wash before sidling into the living room. He paused, staring at the two on the couch for a moment before thumbing over his shoulder, "Up. Shower's free, and I have homeroom in the morning."

Naomasa snorted and pushed himself off the couch with a grunt, "Alright." He hooked his arm around Toshinori's tail and tugged, "You too, Mr. _Overwork._ "

"Hey now-" Toshinori gulped down the tea and stood with a chuckle, tail wagging in Naomasa's grasp, "I'm up."

Aizawa flopped onto the vacated couch with a wide yawn and pulled the spare blanket over his shoulders. Clicking off the lamp, he grunted a "Good night" and shooed them away.

"Goodnight Aizawa. Ah-!" Toshinori barely stifled a laugh, hastily setting his empty mug down on the coffee table. He stumbled backward as Naomasa pulled him by his tail to the guest bedroom.

"What's gotten into you?" Toshinori chuckled, twisting around and untangling himself, "And here I thought you were exhausted."

"I _am_ ," Naomasa huffed. Then paused.

"Toshinori." His brows furrowed earnestly, and he scrubbed a hand through his hair, searching Toshinori's face.

 _He knows. He heard,_ that small panicked voice whispered at the back of Toshinori's mind.

"What we saw down there… in the vault. What that computer -"

"I know. It's fine," Toshinori hastily said, a smile plastered on his face.

"It wasn't. It's _not._ " Naomasa said. He sighed heavily, "It'd be a nightmare for anyone. But for you?" He shook his head and pat Toshinori's chest, hand lingering, "I saw what that room at Rishi was like - What it _smelled_ like. That vault… For you to go in there and get that young man out, after everything -"

Toshinori swallowed tightly.

"You were amazing."

 _Eh?_

"You know that no matter what happens, you have everyone's support. U.A.'s, your students' and peers', Midoriya's, and mine," Naomasa added. "If you ever need anything-"

"I can call you." Toshinori bowed his head, "I know."

The weighty anxiety clamped around his heart bled out in a slow breath, and he leaned into the warmth of Naomasa's hand on his chest.

"You really are incredible," Naomasa murmured, gripping Toshinori's shirt, "You were the bravest I've ever seen you be, today. I want you to know that."

Toshinori smiled lopsidedly and scoffed softly, "Well -"

Naomasa tugged Toshinori down by his shirt, and the earthy smell of wheat and rose, honey and chamomile mixed in a breath as Naomasa's lips brushed the corner of Toshinori's own.

Then, Naomasa stepped back, brows still furrowed and face pleasantly flushed. He pat Toshinori's chest again and nodded.

"Oh," Toshinori blinked down at Naomasa, wide-eyed and dumbstruck. He brushed his claws over his cheek, over the tingling skin. His hackles fluffed. _Oh._

Naomasa suddenly stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath. His eyes widened in realization.

"Excuse me," he stammered, mortified. He turned on his heel, a deep red blush spreading down his neck, and retreated to the bathroom.

Toshinori stared after him, ears flicking. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and his tail gave a cautious wag.

 _That's… new._ He huffed a quiet laugh, thoroughly overwhelmed, and switched off the light.

The rush of the shower drifted down the hall as Toshinori settled into the guest bed, laying back against the familiar pillow.

"Ah! Shit- _Cold!_ " came Naomasa's muffled shout.

A bark of laughter bubbled out of Toshinori, and he shook his head.

"Not a bad night."

* * *

So guess what y'all! We not only have the Toshinoumu tumblr page, we now have a series discord server! Come join us, chat with us and other readers, share and enjoy each other's art, and get day to day updates about chapter progress.

Find a link to our discord on the Toshinoumu blog! You can find tons of theory and meta posts, as well as fan art on that blog. You can also find this series on Ao3 and tumblr.


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